


One Night Together (And the World Becomes Better)

by Angel_In_Soho



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Before We Go (2014) Fusion, Exploring New York while not knowing what NYC looks like, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Light Angst, Light sexual humor lmao, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, One Night Together, Soulmates, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, bear with me I tried from Google and everything in between, kinda because of how the story goes, lots of those because im soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-10 03:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18930658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_In_Soho/pseuds/Angel_In_Soho
Summary: Tony Stark’s got it all- money, fame, power, brains, and good looks. He flaunts what he has, and he’s got it all. He’s got two friends, Rhodey and Pepper, and that’s enough. The future is bright, because of him.Although sometimes everything becomes too much. Six months of gradual decay makes you lose hope in what you hold on. Shades over his eyes, and a bottle of liquor on his side, he spends the night alone in the Grand Central Station— except when he’s not.--Steve Rogers is a man who has nothing, he’s lost it all. He’s a man who was just ripped away from his life—now the past, and he’s trying to find even ground to stand on. The future is too bright, and he doesn’t know what to do.Although in the cool night of New York, he thinks he might find a bit of solace, find the perfect mindset to tackle a new day. As he stares at the clock, he spends the night in quiet melancholy, feeling lost and alone—except when he’s not.--A story of two strangers finding something right in the world, in just one night.(AU before Avengers 1)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I'm delving in to SteveTony, and I've had this idea for a while, I just knew that Endgame would push me to write fanfiction. If you've seen Chris Evans' movie titled "Before We Go" or maybe its earlier counterpart, "Before Sunrise", this has the same premise. I wanted to write something that would be nice to read, and I hope you all enjoy!

**PROLOGUE**

**Morning**

Tony Stark was anything but weak.  He was _smart,_ he was _brilliant,_ and he was—he was a futurist, a man who has it all.

It didn’t mean that it always reflected in his life, though.

-

Brown eyes blinked in dryness, and he must have been up for more than two days now, which wasn’t a surprise. He’s been in his workshop for so long and he hasn’t eaten since—that night when Pepper and he fought. She was agitated, annoyed at how he was being so flippant of (“Tony! You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself! It hurts to see you like this!”) whatever he was doing at the moment.

In hindsight, she might’ve been worried for his safety, because he literally stared down potential enemies and threatened them in the party. Sure, it was under sharp eyes and tight smiles, but it wasn’t good. It was never good to goad your enemies.

But honestly, wasn’t Pepper—“Miss Potts, if you aren’t ready to do so, just stop deluding yourself that you’d even understand what’s happening”—wasn’t Pepper _used_ to this? He never stopped stroking the fire that was too dangerous for his hands. He never stopped being—being _not_ careful.

It’s why they separated in the first place. She knew what risks happened.

His world spun for a moment, and that was the only time he put down his hammer. He brought his hand to his temples and massaged them, muttering incomprehensible words, even to himself.

He was just, so _tired._

It wasn’t just Pepper—or maybe it _was_ Pepper, who was the tipping point, but there was also Rhodey hounding after him and asking his decision on several things, as if him skipping out of conferences was anything he hasn’t done in the past. Maybe it was how the man raised his hands in exasperation, shouting “Tony! I was all up for this _—this “improvement”_ you’re doing but if you’re not going to appear to any conference there _will be hell!”_ that hurt.

Because he did try to change, he wanted to change, damn it.

“Sir,” JARVIS’s British tones implored as he lost grip on his hammer, “—I think it’s best if you would take rest. You have nothing planned for today, I’ve cleared your schedules…” A pause. “Miss Potts would like to remind you that on the twenty-seventh, you will have a meeting—“

“God, JARVIS, not you too.” He breathed out, mind aching. “I don’t _need_ someone reminding me these, I don’t _care!”_

There was a beat of silence before he sighed. “I’m sorry, JARVIS. I’m just stressed. I don’t need someone babysitting me, god, I’m an adult.”

If the AI could give a physical manifestation of a nod, then it would’ve. “Yes,” JARVIS acquiesced. His AI was good like that, always understanding, unlike other people in his life. “I will take note of that, Sir.”

Tony bent down to take his hammer and gave the metal in front of him another strike.

God, he wanted an out.

* * *

Steve Rogers was not a weak man, by any margin; he’s faced down so many enemies in war it would take more than being transported into the future to break his will. He was _strong,_ both mentally and physically, and he once punched Nazis in the face for a living.

Sometimes that didn’t reflect in his life, though.

\--

A hand steadied the swaying punching bag in front of him—or, what was left of it. Steve hissed in seeing it fall from its harness; that was another thing that SHIELD would gripe about when someone sees again.

Not that anyone would even care to barge in at this time, because from what he has learned, whenever he was in the gym, Nick Fury would clear the area because he was still a “state secret”. Which is new, because after being Captain America, he attracted too much attention sometimes.

Maybe it was for the good, because he had time to readjust, somehow? It wasn’t in Dr. Erksine’s reminder—“Not the perfect soldier, but a good man”—that somehow supersoldiers would be launched into more than half a century in the future.

He sighed as he picked the punching bag from the floor, mulling over the past week that he has been basically trapped in SHIELD’s “helicarrier” (or whatever they called it). So far, he has seen six people not recognize him, two people recognize him but weren’t allowed to approach, and if he was being honest, he was just craving for someone to talk with, just not with Nick Fury or Maria Hill. Coulson was pretty nice, but Phil usually lost composure around him.

He was just, so tired, especially when he just learned that his birthday was in a month _,_ which, great, Fourth of July and somehow he felt like not celebrating.

Birthdays weren’t a touchy thing for him; it was more of a tasteless thing to celebrate, after his mother died and Bucky kept going out for war deployment. He didn’t like going out, and if he did, it was to buy bread, because he can’t afford cake.

The hundred dollars given to him to “enjoy your stay in SHIELD, Cap, it will be a meantime till we give you a permanent base” was heavy in his pocket. He didn’t have the heart to ask for a decent pencil and sketchbook too, because that felt too weird.

He settled for pens for the moment, and reusable papers, because this organization that found him apparently took things for granted and took a mistype of a word to be the death of theirs. He’s seen the discarded papers in one of their rooms; no one has reprimanded him for taking a box of papers, so he thinks he’s in the good side of SHIELD for a while.

Steve propped the punching bag to the wall, and peered to the window. Clouds peppered the sky, but there was a lot of buildings too, and wasn’t that a big surprise, to see sky-high buildings in lieu of small towns that he had grown up in.

A fleeting thought of- _which places in New York hasn’t changed? Has Brooklyn changed this greatly?—_ swirled in his head before he squashed it down.

He really had to find a way to get out of this room.

He misses being outside.

* * *

**Afternoon**

Somehow, Tony managed to reach the decision of _maybe I should spend time outside than being inside my laboratory_ in the middle of his sad state. Maybe it was the sad whirring of Dum-E, which sounded too pleading. It made him guilty, and he didn’t like the feeling, or the taste of disappointment linger on his tongue, especially when it came from his own creation. JARVIS was bad enough; Dum-E was worse.

After he trudged up the stairs, his first actions were to get a bottle of scotch and lay down on his couch. Maybe catch some sleep because while he was made of iron will, his body was most likely protesting for sleep. By the way how his back ached on the soft couch, it really did seem so.

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of inane equations—and woke up several hours, startling him.

_Four pm,_ he mused silently as he looked at the digital clock on the wall. _That’s five hours of sleep, better than I’ve had for this past month. That’s an accomplishment._

He sat down and reached for his scotch bottle, popping off the cover without a care for the world. He turned on the news while downing the bottle; mood going sourer when it was about politics that he most certainly didn’t care for or news about him that he _absolutely didn’t care for._

“Tony Stark attracts trouble: seen together with a new partner! Pepper Potts: have they broken up?”

Such and such.

Tony’s eyes narrowed.

In an impulse, he threw the scotch bottle, devoid of its contents, scattering into bits and pieces of glass. He watched as they covered the floor, as if to represent his life going into shambles.

(Well, a part of his life. It seemed like Stark Industries was doing quite well, if by going by his update!)

He threw his head back onto the couch with a loud thump.

“Hah!” He laughed and sneered to no one. “Fuck you! You bunch of douchebags!”

He watched as the news rolled on. He muted the television and put a hand on his face.

_God, I need more alcohol._

-

That sentiment somehow brought him out of his tower, _somehow,_ wearing an inconspicuous coat, shades, rubber shoes, an ACDC shirt and pants. He looked normal, wanted to look normal, because he didn’t need paparazzi hounding his ass just to buy a vodka bottle.

These were “down days” costumes; if Crocs weren’t so abhorrent, he would wear them.

But they were, so that’s where they were.

He ordered a taxi so he could round the city for a while, before setting on foot; if people saw him stalk out of his tower like a creep, people would inadvertently try to catch him, and then his identity would be outed. He was never good at stealth, anyway, since he couldn’t even change the tone of his voice if he needed too.

(That’s what voice changers were for, anyway, but it’d be so _extra_ of him to go out and have a voice changer just for that.)

“It’s twenty bucks.” The driver called. He handed him a fifty just for the hell of it, and bolted out of the car because he can. He vaguely heard that _“Thanks sir!”_ shouted at him after being a few meters away from the taxi, which made him smile a little.

He adjusted his coat and pursed his lips; _now where to buy a vodka bottle._

He’s trying to search for a good shop (because while he is trying to be quiet, he’s not going to drink _piss_ for beer, no, he still had his style) when someone bumps onto him, someone running. More like hitting a bulldozer, because he goes flat on his butt on the pavement and down on his back.

_Whoa, that’s a tight shirt,_ was his first split-second thought as the man got into his view. His second was, _wow that’s the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen in my whole life. It’s like the sky._ The man’s visage complemented the view of the sky he had, anyway.

Which, wow. He was waxing poetic about a stranger’s eyes. He really needed his alcohol, stat.

“Oh—oh! I’m sorry!” The man apologized, eyes full of worry. “Are you alright?”

He held his hand out, but Tony shook his head and propped himself up. “Yeah. Damn, you a tank or something?”

The man gave a squirrely smile, like he somehow took his wallet. Tony idly checked his pockets—his wallet was still there, so it just meant that he was just fidgety. The guy didn’t also seem to be innocent enough not to look like a thief, but hey, looks were deceiving.

“Have heard that sometimes.” He nodded, reaching to him tentatively. “You’re not bruised? Hurt?”

“Nah,” Tony shook his head. “-I’m fine, despite bulldozing on me. Continue doing your running.” He waved his hand. “I’m chill.”

“Ah,” the man looked like he wanted to say something but clamped his mouth shut. “Al- Alright. Sorry again. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “Hope you don’t get… bulldozed, again,” he smiled uneasily.

A startled laugh came out from Tony’s mouth, and he shook his head. “Yeah, yeah.”

The man gave him a once over—Tony involuntarily gave him a wink, making the man blush bright—before breaking out into a run once more, but more hastily, like he was embarrassed.

Tony stood up and snorted. _Well at least he didn’t recognize me._ Raising his head to look at stores once again, he shrugged and opted to go inside a mall.

At least there would be good alcohol there. And less bulldozing people.

* * *

Steve looked up to the sky, and was startled that it was actually nearing night time. The sun was setting and has he really run for five hours?

Wait that was a lie, he spent debating to go out of the helicarrier for an hour, tried evading people for another, and ran for the rest. There was also that moment where he practically bulldozed a person down (that still made him embarrassed, he could’ve _killed_ the man? He was so out of it that somehow his senses didn’t register the man in his way. Usually it would’ve been his body angling him to avoid any obstruction) and that did not settle well with him.

He slowed down from running, breathing in deeply.

He was hungry, so he decided to put the hundred bucks in his own person to use. _SHIELD gave it to me, so I’m going to spend it._ He looked around and swallowed.

_Well, I’m officially an idiot,_ he thought, hands shaking a bit. He tried to not think about the people staring at him (but they were New Yorkers, they were probably just curious on why he was just standing there but the next moment would care) and willed himself to try to be spatially aware for the moment.

He didn’t know where he was, but there were still landmarks. He had run a _lot—_ so far he had seen the Central Park and spent his running there most of the time, then headed east; he’s seen lots of skyscrapers too, then south, to Rockefeller Center. He had rounded up somewhere again, seeing this museum called _Museum of Modern Art_ (one day he’ll check it out) and then turned again where he somehow ended up in Times Square (where the bright televisions were).

Then his mind blanked because he tried to push the notion of _this is where you stood and was told you were in the future_ in his mind. And now he didn’t know where he was.

_Okay Rogers,_ he thought, _you can always ask someone. Yeah, ask someone. Tell them you’re a foreigner._

_Yeah right who’ll think you’re a foreigner, you look as American as one can be._

He raised his hand and got inquisitive gazes from a group of friends, who were just talking with each other on the apartment steps. He could’ve died then and there, but he soldiered on.

“Hey,” he started awkwardly, before clearing his throat. “I’m not exactly…well-versed with New York yet, and I forgot my map and I need to know where I am. Can you tell me?” He shifted his feet, unsure what to do.

One of the teens blinked and shrugged. “Yeah, man. You’re uh-- you’re at 46th street, wait shoot that won’t make sense—46th street, yeah, and you see that building right there?” She pointed upwards, where he looked at the skyscraper with a large point. “That’s the Chrysler Building. Follow that and you’ll be at the train station.”

“You do know Grand Central Station, right?” The other teen—one with bright red hair—asked curiously. “That’s somehow been in your knowledge being a tourist.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ve been there.”

He had, after Nick Fury escorted him out of Time Square. He requested to be brought back to SHIELD as normally as possible. He’d ridden the trains. At least trains were still the same, just a lot more electricity-based.

He gave them a nod and moved briskly, stopping when one of them called out.

“Be safe dude!”

He looked back and smiled awkwardly. “Thank you! You too!”

_Great job, Rogers. Off to Grand Central Station. Day’s done._

* * *

**Approaching night time: 5:40-6:34 pm**

Tony didn’t know how he ended up shopping around the chocolate shop in Grand Central Station, but he did.

Maybe because he was hungry, and he needs to be satiated. Besides, chocolate and vodka sometimes tasted good together, if you knew what to pair them together.

And he was almost caught by a police officer because he tried jaywalking, but who cares, who cares.

He also said _hi_ to the guard in Macy’s, which wasn’t what he was supposed to do, because apparently his voice is _really_ distinct and really, some people need to get their lives in check because someone almost snapped a picture of him. He was used to it, honestly, but he had a life too.

He had his “repulsor” up and everything, as if to attack, but he quickly saved face by putting his hand on his face and high-tailing out of there.

Being famous was a hard life sometimes.

He sat on the steps of the Grand Central Terminal, idly watching people around him, not giving a second glance at him. That was the beauty of New York; you’re not the most bizarre thing they would ever see.

He let a small smile creep on his face; anonymity at its finest.

His eyes raked over the clocks of the station; it read 6:34 pm, and he hummed silently to himself. That was a feat; almost half a day was done already and no one was really catching his eye. _Supposed that’s the life of someone like me,_ he mused, _nothing really catches my eye except a few things. And now I’m bored. What do I do now?_

He wanted to put out his phone, but it was the prototype of the latest Stark Phone, and a lot of people knew what the Stark Phone looked like. It would be a dead giveaway.

_Ugh, the life of a famous person,_ he thought for the hundredth time.

His eyebrows furrowed when he looked to the side; while it was a good wall, it was _who_ that attracted his attention.

_The guy from earlier._

His slightly-inebriated (very slightly, he hasn’t even gotten half of the bottle) brain wired into working again just to check if that was the guy earlier, because meeting New Yorkers two times in a row was surprising, since everyone was usually so busy.

He felt worried for some reason, because the guy was just staring at nothing, at the ticket booth, or the center, the clocks; basically, he wasn’t doing anything threatening or worrying, but… he was just standing there. Confused.

He also felt like he should say something, but he squashed it down. He had no responsibility.

Except when minutes had gone by and the man just didn’t really budge at all.

Tony capped his bottle and held it by its neck, and stashed his chocolates in the paper bag. Resolutely, he stood up, ignoring some people, and walked towards the blue-eyed stranger.

* * *

Steve didn’t mean to stare at everything. It was just—so surreal, seeing so many people, that were just _normal_ people, being so different. It was jarring.

So he didn’t mean to just stare at nothing. He jolted when someone smaller than him—and oh god, the one with the particular beard trim that he _hit earlier—_ was in front of him, in his line of vision.

“Hey there, Mr. Bulldozer.” The man smoothly greeted. “What have you been staring at for the past…” He checked his watch, “—twenty minutes or so?”

Steve just looked at him with wide eyes, surprised.

“Well, okay, okay, me barging in from your cloud of… thinking?” The brown-haired man waved his hand nonchalantly.  Steve noticed the bag of chocolates on his other hand and the bottle of alcohol he clutched. “In your cloud must’ve disrupted you. So, yeah. You alright? Are you in shock or something?”

_Is he drunk or is this a normal thing of these times?_

Steve shook his head, still surprised but a bit better. “N-No. More in awe. I haven’t exactly… taken appreciation of Grand Central Station.”

“Terminal.”

The blond blinked. “What?”

The other man grinned, and tutted. “I’m taking tourist vibes here. I’m just saying, it’s Grand Central Terminal, not Station. Better be knowledgeable. You can be New Yorker if you’ve stopped gaping at everything.”

He found himself involuntarily snorting. “You don’t know, maybe I’ve just got a gaping syndrome.”

The other man rolled his eyes, then directed an undecipherable look towards him. “Right.” He patted his face. “Tourist, huh?”

“Yes…?” Steve answered, not understanding where this was going.

“Get up. I’m bored, and frankly I still want to do other stuff, so I’m going to show you Manhattan.”

“Wha-“, he blinked, then shook his head. “No, I don’t—“

“Look, humor me. You’re young looking, are you like, twenty-two?” The other man raised his eyebrows.

“Twenty-five, actually,” he mumbled. He’s old.

“Oh great, three years off! I’m getting good at recognizing ages now. Yeah, you’re young, I’m kind of, and we both look like we’re not going to do anything as of now. So why not be with me, born-and-raised Manhattan man, tour you around?”

Steve thought the prospect was fun, but, “I don’t even know your name!” he protested again. _There. He wouldn’t give his name, right--_

“Tony.” Now-named Tony introduced with a brilliant smile. “And you’re?”

For some reason, he knew he had to answer, partly because of being fair, and largely because something in his mind nagged for him to do it. “Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve!” Tony smiled even wider. “I’m going to be your tour guide for today. Hope you can keep up, though that would probably be unneeded as how you were running earlier.” He brought out his hand.

“I’ve got to be crazy.” That startled a laugh out of him. “Nice to meet you too, Tony. I’ll try to keep up, yeah.” He shook his hand, and felt a smile on his face.

Idly, he took note of the time, having a feeling that the night will bring something surreal.

**_7 PM_. **


	2. 7 PM to 9 PM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Steve get acquaint themselves with one another. Tony thinks that Steve must've lived in a cave his whole life, and Steve thinks Tony is talented. And eats a lot of chocolate.

**7 PM**

Tony Stark is a brilliant man, but he was also impulsive, so he didn’t really anticipate his mouth running off to be a _tourist guide_ to Steve.

But he was the one who proposed; he wasn’t that much of an asshole to just ditch someone he invited.

Though the other man could really use some relaxing. He looks like he was in parade-rest all the time, and he was _still_ in the too-tight shirt, so honestly it was both a blessing and a curse.

“You could stop doing parade rest, Steve.” He jokingly said, raising his eyebrows. “Your muscles are so tense that _I’m_ the one aching right here.”

Steve looked at him at the corner of his eyes. “But we’re just walking, why would that already make you ache?”

Tony’s eye twitched, rounding to him, glaring. Steve stopped immediately. “Okay, I can detect some type of condescension here.”

“I’m not condescending.” The blond looked genuinely alarmed; he almost felt bad, except the corner of his mouth lifted up, and yeah, no.

“ _Yeah, right.”_ He sniffed. “Not all of us are blessed with the body of Adonis, Steve.” He crossed his arms and raised his shades to glare at him. “Also, Steve, that was totally a joke that you didn’t jive with me. ”

The man cocked his head. “Tony… now who’s tense?”

Tony opened his mouth before settling onto a smirk. Not a lot of people were able to amuse him a lot, and they’ve been together for a short time and he instantly felt alright with Steve.

It was honestly frightening, but between the small voice of inebriation and the louder voice of curiosity over Steve, it was already a sure thing who would win. Besides, they were just walking around Grand Central Terminal for a while, with Tony pointing at subway maps.

Also, Steve had a great smile, so really, who’s losing.

“You got me there, Bulldozer.” He complimented as he took a newspaper from a stand. “You’re a quick one, for someone who stared at the clock for five minutes.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but now, who’s condescending?” Steve asked, but shrugged. “I… spaced out? I think. Also, aren’t you going to pay for that?”

Tony looked up and let out a chuckle. “I… have no money.” _Please buy it, I have two thousand on me. And a lot of credit cards._

Steve raised his eyebrows, looked at where his wallet was, and looked at him again. Then as if to mock him, he gestured to the bottle on his hand and the bag of chocolates laying innocently on the crook of his arm.

“Okay, I _do_ have money,” he started, then raised a finger. “But! I have whole ones. No fives or whatever.”

The blond snorted, a smile on his face again. He looked to side as he fished out his own wallet from the back pocket of his jogging pants. “Wow, I didn’t know I was being toured by one of the richest men alive. I’m flattered.”

He obviously meant it as a joke, but there was a split-second strike of fear that had Tony’s heart start hammering in panic. He didn’t want to be known, and he thought he knew he wasn’t being recognized. That meant two options: Steve had somehow skipped through his whole life (impossible, he’d be born in the height of his initial fame, honestly) or he was a master of keeping his surprise hidden.

Steve put a clean, almost-pressed-looking five dollar on the stand.

“Are you some kind of a secret agent?” He suddenly asked. Steve’s eyes widened in what he presumed to be confusion, so he barreled on. “Like—how can you _not_ know me? I’m apparently loaded, I look like—like this,” he pointed to his general direction, “—and you’re just pretending that you don’t know me? I have to say, they don’t make it like you nowadays.”

“If this is your attempt at making me spill government secrets, I’m not uttering any words.” The blue-eyed man commented, crossing his arms. Which were impressive, because _damn._ “Am I supposed to recognize strangers in a train station?”

“Well, I have half the mind to point out that I am no stranger,” Tony began.

“As you’ve said.” Steve nodded.

“—shut up, don’t interrupt my thinking.” Tony waved his hand again in a flurry. “My face has been in the media for more than three hundred lifetimes. I’ve seen myself photographed until I go blind due to the flashes. You haven’t _honestly_ seen me? Nothing?”

Steve gave him a full once-over, and Tony involuntarily stood in a way that showed his best assets, which was a dangerous smile and absolutely great back. And everything else that wasn’t hidden by his stuffy costume. The blond blushed lightly, shifting to stand straighter, newspaper clutched on his other hand to the side. “Okay. If you really are a star, or an actor, I just assumed that you were trying to be under the radar, with your… costume.”

Tony snorted.

“And,” Steve continued, “—don’t you want privacy? I… _guess_ you look kind of familiar, somehow, but it’s really vague, with all the covers.”

With that statement, Tony let out the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. _So I’m safe, and I’m saddled with the only person in the world that can’t recognize me. Lucky me, I’m glad. Someone gave me an out today._

“That’s—that’s actually reassuring.” Tony gave a smile. “I’ve been paranoid for half a day. I can’t buy something without someone yelling my name. I’m glad you were someone raised in some cave, because wow, you are the _best_ companion I could have on a binge of trying to be alone.”

Steve pursed his lips, and Tony wondered if he went over the line of teasing, until his lips quirked into a smile. “Glad I’m of some use, a paparazzi cover. What has my life become? All I wanted to have today was time for myself, yet here I am, a pseudo-guard for a millionaire.”

“Billionaire, excuse me.” Tony flippantly corrected. “There’s three more digits that you have to add to that, and a whole lot of decimals. I work hard for that, you know.”

Steve just hummed. Tony pouted. The other man grinned.

“Okay, fine. Mr. Billionaire, tour me around till the sky turns into light.”

Tony stopped, just at one of the many exits of Grand Central Terminal. “That was oddly artistic of you, Steve, and very old of you to say. Poetic for something like us just hanging out for no reason.”

Steve laughed heartily. “Oh, Tony, you have _no_ idea.” He turned around and lifted his head. “So, where to, Sir?”

Tony swallowed an innuendo in, and flashed a grin. “Oh, we are going to have an itinerary."

* * *

**8 PM**

Steve was new to the world, and he was still frightful of cars (because they were plenty faster too, and there are so many _lights,_ blaring at his face.) He also heard someone walking with a loud music player, like some kind of radio but bigger than anyone’s head, propped on their shoulder. It was playing some kind of music with the singer saying things that were nothing but gunfire-sounding to him.

_How can someone talk that fast?_

But it’s not like it wasn’t believable. Beside him was probably someone who talked like gunfire; he talked, and talked, but he was excitable, and somehow that was endearing.

Steve was an introvert, and for some reason he was always attracted to extroverts with sharp tongues.

His thought strayed to fondue and he almost choked.

 _Rogers,_ he reprimanded himself, trying to smother the stupid grin that was slowly forming on his face. _That’s very inappropriate. Very, very inappropriate._

“Hey, gorgeous, what are you thinking about?”

He blinked and willed himself to relax.  “Ah, nothing—nothing important, that is.”

Chocolate-brown eyes looked at him inquisitively, and he knew what was coming. “Right, you say that when you’re looking at me. Don’t tell me you’re getting ready to kidnap me, you actually knew me all along, blondie.” He had an uneasy, but sharp grin on his face. “Just admit it so I can throw my money right now. Come on now. I won’t bite.”

“Tony!” He scolded, “—I was just thinking how fast you’re talking. It’s like a talent. Can’t—not a good talker myself.”

He watched as the other man relaxed, putting a nagging thought at the back of Steve’s mind. _Why are you so guarded? Every word that I say seems like a double entendre._

“Oh, that. I’m really great at it; it’s a skill that you have to wield correctly. Like right now,” Tony shrugged. “You won’t _believe_ the life I live. Board meetings are a constant and I’m so _tired_ of them. How could people like those stuff? It’s not cool. Everyone’s expected to be an adult.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding. “Meetings are nice.”

Meetings were _definitely_ nice; in the war— _good gosh, that was last week, god, god—_ those were the safest areas. People made sure that the main tent was the safest because war operations happened in them. Meetings were important, and safe, and everyone in the room is there to save someone.

“Jesus _Christ,”_ Tony breathed out, looking at him with squinted eyes, “-you are literally the _only_ person I’ve ever heard say that. Board meetings are the worst!” He looked at his bag and got a gold-wrapped ball. “You want?”

“What’s—“, he blinked. “What _is_ that?”

He feared that this was one of those products that will out him once again that he wasn’t from this century, and somehow he’ll just spill the secret that he hasn’t been alive for seventy years just by a golden ball.

He winced a little, waiting for the ‘ _are you serious’_ exclamation Tony would probably say, but it never came.

Tony unwrapped the golden foil ball and showed him. “Chocolate, with hazelnut.” He bounced the chocolate ball before popping it into his mouth. “Ishh delisshoosh.”

Steve thought that sounded familiar, like someone in Italy that he had known in the past. Chocolate and hazelnut seemed like an echo of his past. _Who was it, who was it…_

“Like—like Ferrero?” He stammered, eyes wide.

The other man’s eyes blinked, then he swallowed. “Yeah, Ferrero Rocher! You actually know the chocolate!”

 _Oh my god, he’s famous,_ Steve thought, mind boggled. _Pietro actually became famous? How did that happen? Did everyone buy his chocolate after the war? That’s amazing! How’d he do that? That’s—wow, is he still alive? No, stupid, he won’t be alive by this time. Maybe he has a family? I’d like to meet them one day._

_No wait, that’s creepy, Pietro only knows me as Captain America, and Captain America going to Italy to eat chocolate would be so weird. Oh man, what the hell?_

“Whoa big guy,” Tony patted his arm, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You alright? You went through some kind of tunnel of existential crisis right there. It’s just a ball of chocolate.” He brought another one out of his bag. “Come on, you look like Ferrero Rocher killed your dad.”

Steve snorted, taking the golden-foiled ball. “Ah, sorry. I was just—reminded of someone I knew.”

“A guy named Ferrero who makes chocolate and hazelnut?” Tony asked, skeptical. “That’s way too much of a coincidence. Was he reincarnated or something?”

“You believe in reincarnation?” Steve couldn’t help but ask.

The brown-eyed man huffed. “Darling, I believe in science, but also, that’s way too much of a coincidence.” Then, his eyes widened. “Shoot! That means we have to get him! He’s going to take over the chocolate industry!”

“You’re a chocolate manufacturer?”

Tony turned around and looked at him with an incredulous look on his face. “What? No! I’m a green energy and technology specialist. What made you think I was even close to chocolate manufacturing?”

“Well,” Steve waved his hands helplessly. “You’re talking about… my _memory_ of a person being a potential reincarnation who has a hidden agenda of taking over the world’s chocolate industry. How was I supposed to think?”

Tony pursed his lips. “Alright, you got me there, but no. I’m not a chocolate—hey, you distracted me!”

Steve couldn’t help another smile tug on his lips. (He’s been doing that a lot this night, and it’s only been an hour or two in. How was this possible?) “I totally did not.”

“You totally did!” Tony all-but-yelled. “How dare you! I was reprimanding you about being a meeting-lover and then you steered the conversation away into… reincarnation!”

“No, I didn’t, you did that by yourself.”

Tony wagged a finger towards him. “ _Ohoh,_ Mr. Blondie, don’t give me that, there are many things I forget but remembering who steered the conversation away isn’t one of them. I’ve got half a mind to yell at you more, but I’m starving. We’re going to eat.”

“I’m… not really hungry, Tony,” Steve mumbled, but that was a lie because he was in a constant state of hunger for the past week. “-also, I had eaten in the Grand Central Terminal? What was that, a café?”

Tony clicked his tongue. “I don’t care. I’m hungry, and chocolate can only satiate my hunger for some time. Now,” he gestured towards a building. “Metlife Building, Steve.”

Steve stared upwards, seeing the rectangular glass-covered building as high as the sky. Idly, he thought that it might not be the tallest building in this New York. “Hello.” He promptly greeted, then a second later he was berating himself because that was _stupid, Steve. You don’t say hello to buildings. What's happening?_

But judging by the way Tony looked at him with a brighter smile, he knew it wasn’t an issue.


	3. 9 PM to 11 PM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Steve get dinner, and a walk in the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with another chapter. I want to thank those people who gave kudos, commented, and read my story! Thank you so much!

**Chapter 2: 9 pm to 11 pm**

**9 PM**

Tony was starting to believe in the concept of fate, somehow, because he started this day so bad that he actually threw a bottle at no one in anger, and now he was ordering coffee with someone he didn’t even know.

Which, by the way, _wow,_ this day turned itself so fast it’s giving him slow whiplash.

He actually got into a mini-argument with Steve earlier, but it was about something really inane like, _where are we going to eat Tony_ and _is this dinner on me or on you, because it’s a date_ and he had made the adorable man blush till he was going to explode.

Go, Tony Stark charm.

He’d wanted to bring him to somewhere pricier, and totally his style, but this was Steve discovering Midtown Manhattan, not his attempt to date him in the worst get-up for any event that he has ever had in his life.

So they opted to find a café, which in Metlife was still fancily Italian.

Italian was a safe ground to be on, right? Usually people loved Italian, and it was a pleasure to have despite all of the herbs and spices they put in the food. _Oh god, what if he’s allergic? What do we do?_

 _Shut up,_ he admonished himself. _Steve’s a grown-ass man he can take care of himself._

He clasped his hands together and wagged his eyebrows as they wait for the menu. “Well, well, _Steve,_ I think this is the part of the tour where we get to know each other, nay, or yay?”

Steve regarded him with a huff. “Food first.”

He sighed, putting a hand to his chest dramatically. “Sweetheart, I thought you were, and I quote, _‘not really hungry’,_ unquote?” He peered to look at Steve’s expression and laughed at the twitch that his eyebrow did. “Oh come on, Steve. You totally need the food. For a growing guy like you, it’s mandatory. You spent your time in the gym day and night or something?”

Steve pursed his lips, making Tony look at them involuntarily. _Stop it Stark. He’s clearly uncomfortable. But hey he’s going to ease in this somehow, I mean he’s not saying no yet._

“Or something,” Steve admitted, hunching over as if trying to look smaller in his place. Not that Tony noticed, because the man was huge and he was sitting in a chair that was smaller than his shoulder width. “—kind of a relaxing thing to me.”

“Exercise relaxes you?” Tony raised his eyebrows, though anticipating it. “No wonder you’re so buff.”

“ _Tony_.”

“Steve.” He grinned.

The blond got redder when Tony winked. “Hey! No fair!”

“No fair, what?” Tony prodded. “Come on now, I can’t give a guy a compliment? Don’t tell me you’re not the compliment type of guy, buddy, because those arms are to die for. The shirt as well is _not_ helping.”

Somewhere between Tony’s blabbering over the guys looks, his mind yelled, _we need to buy him a jacket! He can die from the cold of New York and his shirt is not fantastic to look at at all, god._ Which, from his attracted-brain to his logical brain, he totally agreed with. Steve would look _fantastic_ in some kind of leather jacket.

“I can receive and give compliments, Tony,” Steve’s mouth twitched into a smile. “—it’s that, it’s _very_ indecent.”

“No…” the genius shook his head, wagging his finger and dragging the o’s more than necessary. “No, _this_ is indecent.”

Then he suddenly reached out to touch Steve’s arm with a joking leer, but then he started because--- _fuck,_ wow, that was.

An enlightening experience. _I think I also believe in the concept of heaven now,_ he thought.

“Okay, that’s it,” Steve griped, standing up. “Look—this has been a fine time and thanks I guess for teaching me what Grand Central Terminal is and Chrysler Building and Metlife Building is, but I have to go.”

Tony’s heart plummeted in ways he didn’t know, like his arc reactor suddenly tried to dive-bomb down to the depths of the Marianas Trench. His hands suddenly burned and he had the urge to whip out his alcohol again, but he was better than that. He was having fun with Steve. _Yeah. I am having a fun time. I’m such—I’ve been having a good time, just going around. I’ve been—_

“—having a fun time.” Tony said out loud. Steve was halfway to the door as he turned around.

“What?”

“I’ve been having a fun time and I’ve been a jerk for doing—doing that, to you, Steve. I see it now.” He slumped his shoulders. “Look, if there’s something you have to know about me, it’s that I flirt. A lot. Like it’s second to how I breathe and create, I flirt. That’s.” He helplessly gestured to everything. “That’s how Tony the Billionaire works.”

He waited for Steve’s response, ready for the rejection and the eventual worse night that was going to happen when Steve left him alone in this café. He watched as the man’s face blanked out for a second, and then he seemed to go through a moment of inspection of whatever Tony had sprouted from his mouth, and Tony just watched him anxiously.

Bright, blue eyes regarded him with a stare, then, “Tony the Chocolate Connoisseur.”

Tony blinked. “What?”

A smile appeared on the other man’s face, and somehow Tony’s guilt that was bubbling in his stomach ebbed away. That smile could cure cancer, if that was possible. “I said, Tony, the Chocolate Connoisseur who talks a lot. Not the Billionaire.”

Tony’s eyes widened, not knowing how to respond.

Steve took it as an opportunity to explain that _okay fine I’m not good at naming things_ and _it’s just a bargain of you understanding such and such_ and honestly he wasn’t listening anymore because that was one of the nicest things someone has ever said about him and his extravagance.

His newfound companion had basically said that he didn’t care about the money, that he didn’t really abide his flirty personality but will accept it if needed. He didn’t care about him blabbing about a lot, and only regarded him with something that he’s shown to love: chocolate.

 _God_ , if there was a god, this was an angel from heaven because he was _too perfect to be real_. (Except apparently he can’t flirt with him, so that’s was a downside, but he could adjust. He could adjust.) Also, he was—

“Hey, you just saw me eat ten Ferreros and now you call me a Connoisseur?” He harrumphed. “I mean, I do have impeccable taste with sweets, but how dare you for doing so.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow. “Tony, you ordered Chocolate Mousse and Chocolate Ice Cream. You said you wanted to check out the chocolate shop after eating dinner. You thought Ferrero Roche was going to take over the chocolate industry. How am I not supposed to call you one?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Point. But I have a fancy cheeseburger and prosciutto and you got a full rotisserie chicken! Will I call you chicken?”

The blond regarded him with a look.

“Okay, yes, that’s actually an insult, so no, I won’t call you chicken, no siree,” Tony waved his hands. “Jesus Christ. I can’t keep my mouth shut.”

Steve laughed, pushing him to their table gently. “Nah, I think I overreacted as well. I’m sorry.” He sat down after pulling Tony’s seat, which, _gentleman,_ and shrugged his shoulders. “Very forward though, touching my arms.”

“No fair, you can’t just _say sorry_ when it’s not even your fault!!” Tony exclaimed, pouting. “That’s just unfair. You are _very_ unfair right now.”

“Mhm.”

Tony clicked his tongue. “Okay, hotshot, you are _very unfair._ I’m here, being guilty, and you look smug as hell on the other end of this table—“

“We’re like, three feet apart.”

“—and I will not stand for this injustice!” He looked to the side. “Waiter! Where’s our order!”

“You really should keep your voice down,” Steve reminded, looking around worriedly, but Tony was on a roll, and that didn’t really stop till he stopped.

“So yes Steve, you’re not supposed to say sorry when it’s the other’s fault; I clearly did it very forward and you were uncomfortable, so I’m going to apologize for that. We should lay groundwork about this because I don’t know what boundaries are sometimes. So—“

“ _Tony,”_ Steve hissed, and oh my god, he’s gotten the Pepper hiss down and they’ve known each other for two and half hours right now? _Dear god. I don’t need them to meet._ He’s gotten his attention though. “—don’t shout!”

“We have privileges, honey boo,” he pouted. “But fine.”

“No, not fine,” he muttered, glancing to the side and rolling his wide shoulders. “Someone just—let me—“

He suddenly stood up, and he went over a woman, to the end of the room. Tony curiously looked over, wondering what his companion for the night was going to do.

And he’s gesturing for something—and, and.

Oh.

The woman was nodding, and other customers (thankfully two are late-night eaters, and just three staff-- apparently not a lot dined in a café at this morning or at this late) were smiling or approving of whatever Steve was doing. Then the woman dipped her head, and Steve held her phone, furrowing his eyebrows (what was he seeing?) and nodding.

He asked something again and the woman nodded.

Steve flashed a smile.

The woman looked fondly understanding or anything akin to _melting_ , and Tony could only think of, _same._

Steve turned around and Tony observed at him. “Well, that was fun.” The blond mused as he sat across him.

Both he and Steve went silent when the waiter delivered their dinner, a weird sense of silence descending between them. It seemed like no one of the two knew how to respond to the earlier incident; was Tony supposed to say thank you? He really should.

Tony was going to dig in to his cheeseburger when Steve spoke.

“This seems like a meal for two people.”

Tony snorted out a laugh, and then he was laughing, breaking the peace between them. Steve had a grin on his face.

“I told you, there rotisserie chicken is _for a family,_ Steve,” he chuckled between the statements, “—god, can you even _finish_ that?”

“Don’t challenge me, Tony.” Steve commented. “I have a big appetite.”

“For a growing man. Yes.”

“Shh, Tony.” Then, “Uh. I. I made her remove the… moving—I mean, the video.”

Tony didn’t so much as blink at the abrupt topic change (and simultaneous confession) but he had figured it out as much. However, he thought it was just a picture, so it made Steve’s action even more meaningful.

“She—filmed our fight. I. I don’t--- I’m not really well-versed with technology, Tony, but you’ve said that you don’t like being hunted by cameras and people, and you wanted to stay down, and well, I just had to, keep you private, so—erm,” he stuttered nervously.

He looked at his chicken tentatively when Tony didn’t answer right away, then just quietly ate his food.

Tony breathed in deeply and smiled wobbled a little bit, but at least Steve didn’t see. Maybe this guy really was an angel? He really could be. No one has ever been kind to him, except Pepper, Rhodey, and sometimes Happy.

“Thank you, Steve.”

Steve looked up from his chicken, surprised, like he didn’t expect anyone to respond to a gesture like that. Maybe it really _was_ nothing for him, because it was basic human decency, but Tony’s been around people who’d rather see people burn than live, so it was a nice change of pace. It wasn’t a big gesture, but Tony always preferred smaller, more meaningful ones, anyway.

Tony gave a softer smile, suddenly feeling a lot ligher for the past few months. “Just, thank you.” 

* * *

 

**10 PM**

New York really was something at night, despite the hustle and bustle it achieved. In the past cars were a thing already, so he wasn’t surprised at the vehicles—however, the sheer amount of them being just _there_ made the tour more nerve-wracking than it had any right to be.

Of course, it was even more magical when you’ve got someone to spend it with.

Observing the man beside him was a delight in itself. He just—radiated this energy, this _aura_ , which made Steve love the future. He hadn’t realized it yet, but he hasn’t had a thought about the past since this morning. It was a vast improvement for him, who had spent wallowing in SHIELD far more than he would like.

But as the crisp wind of the New York night blew, he saw _some_ appeal to the future.

“Melancholic there, big guy.” Tony cocked his head, curious. “What are you thinking about?”

Steve regarded him a look for a moment, before raising the ice cream at his hand. “I think I’m going to get a disease from all these sweets.” He also gestured to the bags he held, courtesy of Tony impulsively buying different things a ‘tourist should buy’. Not that he was going to get that sick anymore, because of the serum, but he felt like it.

(The dinner was great. And Tony just made the simple event brighter, with his bright eyes and wisdom.

_“Do you know that coffee is the drink of the gods?”_

_“I thought that was ambrosia.”_

_“No, that’s the food. Here, my grand cup of dark goo, is the drink of the gods. It revitalizes you. How can it not be an energy bank?”_

_“But tea does that as well?”_

_“Shush, Steve, you blasphemer.”_

_“But you’re the one that called coffee as the grand cup of dark goo-“_

_“Hush, Steve---“_

Okay, _wisdom_ wasn’t the right word for that conversation, but the man was truly brilliant, in many ways than one.)

“Diabetes?” Tony quirked an eyebrow, and he waved his own ice cream. “Unless you’ve got dysfunctional insulin or so-so, you’re safe buddy.” He stopped. “You… _aren’t_ diabetic, right? It’s largely genetic too.”

 _Once upon a time I could’ve been,_ Steve thought, revelling in that fact. _Does the serum carry over to… blood and insulin for these stuff?_

Steve chuckled uneasily. “Ah. I might— _could_ retract, but my past doctors just proclaim that I’m uh…” He searched for a word that could substitute to ‘ _an experiment that went quite successful, you’re the peak of human perfection, Steven!’._

He stopped, fiddling with the newspaper and bags at hand. _That was just… that was just a year ago, for me. But right now… that’s more than seven decades already. That was a... miracle of the past. And I’m here. Alive. Somehow._

He breathed in deeply, choosing his words correctly—in fear of someone _hearing_ him, especially a SHIELD member.

“They called me a miracle... I was asthmatic and attracted diseases left and right. Would probably fall victim to the common cold in the past. I had all allergies known to man. My mother had to check everything so I wouldn’t just have attacks left and right.”

Tony swept his eyes up and down, whistling. It made Steve’s cheeks heat because the man wasn’t subtle, really. “Can’t notice, darling.”

“Tony, I’m being serious here.” He muttered, but that was just as far as he reprimanded the other man.

“I know.” Tony smiled, a sincere apology on his lips. “Had to lighten up the mood. Not good with feelings, right?”

Steve could understand. He was weird with emotions himself, and maybe that was why he was urged to share more than he had with anyone in SHIELD. “I grew up—poor, and, uh.” He looked to the sky. “I just wanted. There’s a lot that are gone, and well.”

“Gone?”

Steve gave him a subtle nod. “Gone.”

Tony was silent before falling in step with him.

“Steve, why were you staring at the clock so long?” he whispered tentatively. “…Steve? You can. You can talk to me.”

The gesture made Steve feel a little funny, because from the few hours that he had been learning about Tony, the man wasn’t tentative nor careful. He didn’t whisper (until it was some kind of innuendo, which, when he got angry with him earlier, were more jokingly placed) and it made him smile, sadly.

“It’s stupid.” He laughed. His eyes were burning. He bit his ice cream.

“Hey, I won’t think it’s stupid.” Tony prodded. “I could think of several things that are stupid. Like… me, not eating for three days straight.”

Blue eyes blinked in concern. “Wait, _what—“_

“That was just an example!” Tony raised his hands in the universal motion of surrender. “ _That_ was stupid. Whatever you were doing in the terminal was not. So…?”

Steve didn’t budge, busying himself with eating his ice cream, trying not to make eye contact with the other man.

“I’m an inventor,” Tony suddenly said. He led them to an area named Bryant Park. Steve thought it was calm, and befitting the mood. “I create things. Technology is my forte. I made my first circuit board at four. Built my first gun at six.”

“Gun?” Steve whispered. That wasn’t right.

“My dad,” Tony continued, as if that explained everything about him holding dangerous arms at age six. “I’m a genius, through and through. My parents are rich as hell, and any move I did, the cameras followed me. I went to MIT, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I got my degrees for masters and doctorate, fifteen and sixteen years old, respectively. Physics, mechanical engineering, electrical engineering. I’ve got a BS on thermonuclear physics too, just got that for the hell of it.”

Steve looked at him with wonderment in his eyes. “Wow. You’re amazing.”

“Am I?” Tony raised his eyebrows.

“Well, yeah, what’s not amazing about that? You’re intelligent, Tony.” He meant it, because someone who just had those degrees weren’t pushovers. Had a company that apparently did “green energy and technology”, whatever that meant today. And he was just, so, brilliant. He suddenly felt small, and insignificant. “God, I’m—I’m.” He went silent.

“There you go again, Steve,” Tony said gently. “Come on, I’m not good at opening up, but I’m trying here.”

He really was, and the blond appreciated it _so much._ It’s been more than anything he has, in his life. He reminded him of Peggy. That was… strangely alright.

Steve thought of different things, before settling on, “I went to art school once.”

That was safer grounds.

“Yeah?” Tony kicked a pebble. “How’d it go? You any good?”

“Hopefully, I learned a thing or two. I wasn’t able to continue schooling because—well because I was poor. Sickly. Mom couldn’t,” and his breath hitched, as his memories resurfaced. “—was strong.”

“Moms usually are.” Tony agreed. “And dads are shit.”

“Hey now not all of them are bad,” Steve reprimanded, before laughing. “Okay, but my dad was. Not great, so fine, I won’t contest that.” He sat on the bench for a short rest, and Tony mimicked him, sitting beside him, but not too close. “I joined the army, one day.”

Tony mumbled something under his breath, which sounded suspiciously as _I knew it,_ making him smile a little.

“And. Well.” He looked up to the sky, mouth twitching between happy and sad tears. “I miss. I miss a lot. I. I just want to turn back time, and, turn back and go to the better times.”

Tony hummed, then, “Shit, I’ve got the same sentiments.” He fiddled with his bags that Steve had placed in front of him and brought out a water bottle. “Everything’s been too much, huh? I’ve been wanting to turn back time, too. Not always, but there’s always that thought nagging me at the back of my mind.”

“Well, you’re a tech-genius, you might.” Steve mused, scratching his chin in thought. “I believe you can do it.”

Tony chuckled for a moment, startling Steve. “Sorry, sorry. That’s just a lot of faith in me, buddy. We’ve known each other for three or so hours? A lot of people don’t trust me, and I don’t trust them as well.”

 _I trust you,_ Steve wanted to say. _I trust that you can because you’re Tony and you’re amazing._

“I’m just saying, if you could assemble a circuit board at four, you probably could wire a time machine, or something, at age…”

“Old, I’m old.” Tony waved his hand through the air.

“You don’t look like it.” Steve cocked his head.

Tony grinned. “Oh good, compliments to the ego. I love it, give me more.”

Steve laughed. “Right. But I’m serious. You probably could.”

Tony faced him fully, shifting his position until they were face-to-face. “Would… you, want that, Steve?”

Steve searched his face for something—a sign on why he was asking so, but shrugged. “It might be cool to have one, just in your laboratory or your sink for dishwashing. You know.”

The other man sniggered. “Sink-- a _dishwasher_? Blondie, you’re going to be terrible with my inventions.”

“If it could be washed, or cleaned, I’d clean it.” Steve huffed. He didn’t know what a dishwasher was, but he knew context clues.

“Okay, metaphorical time machine here, and you’re already trying to clean it already. I’m touched.” The brown-eyed man shifted back to a better sitting position, leaning his back to the bench. “It’d get dusty, if we’re real, and Dum-E might wreck it.”

“Dum-E?” Steve inquired, “—that’s new. Who’s that?”

Tony’s eyes brightened. “Oh, Dum-E! That’s my—that’s my school fair project, when I was thirteen. I won a prize for that. He’s a robot. He’s dump and he tries but he’s not a great lab partner. He knocks a lot of things away. And sets the fire extinguisher too long after I’ve found a way to kill the fire. Honestly, I should program him with faster reaction times.”

“But you cherish him, yeah?” Steve asked, and Tony looked at him with a certain look in his eyes.

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to meet him someday.” Steve mumbled, blushing. But he knew that wasn’t the case. They were different people, too different.

When he looked at Tony, it seemed like he had the same idea. “I’d glad for that to happen,” Tony confessed, “—but—“

“Different lives.” Steve felt his eyes burn again, and for a split second, a tear escaped from his left eye. He quickly wiped it off so Tony wouldn’t see, but from the man’s glossy gaze, he saw it too. “Hah! That’s. That’s a good thing to stall the time machine, huh?”

Tony blinked, and wiped his eyes with his ridiculous coat sleeves. “What? What about the time machine?”

Steve clasped together his hands, and stared off to the other side, to a tree. “Stall the time machine. I wouldn’t have met you if I changed anything differently.”

 


	4. 11 PM to 1 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony shares some feelings, and Steve finds a way to make the night better.

**Chapter 3: 11 pm to 1 am**

**11 PM**

Tony was in love.

Okay, maybe he _wasn’t_ in love yet, but he was teetering dangerously so, because he’s getting the warning signs he’s had with Pepper. But that was different because Pepper and him just kind of realized they had a great dynamic and liked each other; there was no need to ‘fall’ in love because they were already, kind of, in love in their own way.

Then here comes Steve, with his stupid smile.

He was scared of love, god he was so scared, but when he looks at Steve—Steve, asthmatic kid from Brooklyn, Steve, who, looked at buildings with a certain awe that only artists can only achieve, Steve, who said meeting him was worth it, Steve, who was making him believe in love again (if that was a true concept).

He was so afraid, yet for once in his life, he felt free.

He knew he was being vague with everything he was saying. It seemed like Steve really didn’t have any idea who he was, because he had been spilling his stories left and right and the man had just regarded him with awe.

 _But that’s because you’ve been framing yourself as some kind of intelligent, untouchable man, not broken, as what you are,_ a voice in his head reminded.

He hated that voice.

_Have you seen him? He doesn’t like you. He thinks you’re forward and you’re ridiculous. He zones out when you talk. You made him cry too, asshole._

He secretly looked at the other man, who was somehow content, feeling the breeze of the night. He looked peaceful, just sitting there, and Tony felt disgusted at himself because of different things. He’s been making the man bring his impulse buying as well.

“Alright, this is enough, I need to walk again.” He declared, shooting up from the bench and startling the resting Steve. He felt bad immediately. “Oh, uh, didn’t mean to startle you.” He laughed awkwardly.

“Nah, I’m alright.” Steve smiled, hefting the bags in one hand. Tony tried not to stare because he _knew_ those were heavy and godTonystopstaring. “Where to, Tony?”

Tony thought of a mental map in his mind; if he whipped out his phone again, he’d be _dead,_ again, and what was going to happen? This--- fantasy, escape, would end too early. He knows Pepper would call him any time soon, especially since he just turned off his phone.

_I should’ve thrown it in the ditch somewhere._

_And risk someone getting it?_

Pepper or Rhodey will call. Or JARVIS, because he gets antsy when he doesn’t return or inform him of any place.

 _Please,_ he prayed to anyone who would hear his thoughts, _just one night. Just one night, and I’ll be alright._

“The breeze here is nice, though.” His companion observed, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I’d like to just sleep to this. It feels amazing.”

Glad to find another topic for his brain to stew on, Tony asked, “A friend of nature?”

Steve gave him an indecipherable quirk to the lips. “Yes, but I’m still a city boy.”

“Well, you’re going to fit right in here in Manhattan! Because that’s a lot of buildings and it doesn’t get more citier than New York City.”

“Citier?”

Tony waved his hand, impervious to Steve’s teasing lilt. “ _So_ , itinerary. I’m thinking of a good loop. We’ve got a whole night to ourselves, and it’s what, 11 pm? Early. It’s like, prime time.”

“I believe eleven in the evening is hardly prime time, or early for any matter, Tony.” Steve simply stated, shrugging. “But we’re both wide awake, so honestly, you’re right.”

“Darling, I’m always right, I’m the genius between us.”

“ _Right,”_ Steve drawled. “And I’m the pretty boy? The brawn?”

Tony snorted. _Brawn, pretty boy? I mean, he’s probably strong as hell but he’s not stupid. He’s got a good sense of humor and a sharp mind. Good senses too. But he’s handsome, more than pretty._

“I’d say be my guest, but you’re not exactly giving off Belle vibes here; you’re a bookworm, aren’t you?”

“A bit.” Steve nodded, cocking his head. “So… you’re some kind of intelligent beast, I guess?”

“I will gloss over the part you called me beast, because that guy turns out alright in the end, so yes.” Tony clicked his tongue. “Also thank you, that’s another point to my ego, you’re doing wonders to my self-esteem, sweetheart.”

Steve hummed. “Glad to be of service, Mr. Connoisseur, will we be purchasing more trinkets for me? Or more chocolate for you—“. Steve ducked just in time and caught the golden foil ball in his hands, thrown courtesy of an irate Tony. “—Tony, don’t litter. Even if they are Ferrero Roche, dogs and cats won’t love them.”

“You’re such a little cheeky shit, you know that.” Tony griped. “ I can’t believe you—“ The hair on the back of his neck stood up when he felt the golden foil hurtling—and there wasn’t any other word but _hurtling_ to his vision—and hitting the center of his head so accurately, it made him lose his balance.

Tony held out his hand suddenly, as if to hit him with a repulsor blast. Steve’s eyes were wide.

His heart thudded painfully against his chest once again, and his arc reactor felt weird. _Did you seriously think of hitting Steve with a repulsor blast? He’ll recognize that stance and he’ll get angry at you._

He flinched when he heard the other man move.

And Steve high-fived him.

Tony blinked, and then as if that was the funniest thing that had happened to him his whole life, doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing. Some onlookers became curious, and Steve was rapidly becoming red (from embarrassment or worry, he didn’t know).

“What?” Steve exclaimed. “Tony! Tony? Why—why are you laughing—“

“That—“, Tony wheezed, swaying to the grass to calm himself, “—was the most adorable and the funniest thing I’ve ever experienced in my whole life, god, Steve, why do you do this to me?”

“I thought it was a high-five!”

“It wasn’t!”

“Sue me, you jerk.”

Tony stopped laughing. “Was—was that an _accent,_ Steve?”

Steve spluttered. “I’m not talking with an accent you—Tony! Stop laughing!”

“It’s a Brooklyn accent!” Tony exclaimed. “Oh my god.”

 _I’m falling in love._ He thought, and that seized his breath away again. _Jesus Christ, I’m falling in love with this dork._

“Tony—“

“Keep going,” Tony goaded, because he was like that. “Keep going—“

“Up and at it, genius,” Steve blushed, reaching out to grasp his hand. Tony felt a spark— _god, this is becoming more romance novel that I would ever like—_ and the man hefted him up with a swift action, like he didn’t weigh anymore than a pencil.

“Guess your muscles isn’t for show?” He commented, surprised.

Steve pursed his lips. “It’s for action too.” He still said with the accent, and Tony filed it as an ‘embarrassed’ quirk the other man had. “Stop it. It wasn’t funny.”

“I was doing a superhero pose,” Tony admitted, watching the other man’s visage go from embarrassed to interest. “I thought it was funny at the moment, and then—“, he chuckled again, earning a pout from the other man, “—you just high-fived me! Admit it, it’s funny!”

Steve huffed. “Fine. It’s a _little_ funny, but you’ve got to tell me about that superhero action pose.”

 _That settles it, Steve lived under a rock_ , because no one wouldn’t know Iron Man’s repulsor blast pose. He’s had action figures modeled after him, for science’s sake!

But the bigger thing was the fact that Steve kept saying that there was a time for them to meet, somehow, that was out of this magical night.

Tony felt his heart squeeze funnily.

Steve looked around, the red dissipating slowly. His accent, however, wasn’t fading yet. “So, what’s our next destination?”

Tony tapped his foot, humoring the unsubtle way of changing the subject. “I’ve got an idea, you’ve got any idea about New York’s most beloved buildings?”

“The Chrysler?” Steve wondered aloud, squinting as if to search for the building.

“Christ, no, Steve.” He laughed again, and he felt that _funny, ticklish_ feeling again in his chest, something that he associated with Steve now. “We’re going to a building with a great skyline,” Tony smiled wickedly.

“We’re going to the Empire State Building.”

* * *

 

**12 AM**

Before they arrived to the Empire State Building, Tony gestured to different buildings in the way, talking about engineering facts and such. Most prominently were the former American Radiation Building ( _“black and gold, Steve, because he didn’t want to look like waffle! Hah!”)_ which has been changed into the Bryant Park Hotel, Bank of America Tower ( _“also called the BOAT, which is hilarious!”),_ and even his newfound hate for Times Square was tampered by the man’s delight in it.

(“Hey, it’s twelve in the morning! Hah! Good morning Steve!”

He had laughed fondly. “Good morning, Tony.”)

He also got them through Herald Square, with a big mall named _Macy’s_ looming at the corner. The world really has changed in seventy years, and he didn’t think he could catch up at this rate.

_Except when he’s there beside me._

Steve’s cheeks heated up, understanding what he meant by that. _I like this guy._ He thought, with eyes wide, and his heart beat against his chest. _How is this possible?_

_This feels like Peggy all over again._

Peggy Carter. Brunette, red lipstick, sharp mind, heels that could probably pin him like a gun, and was always quick-witted. She was a fantastic woman, and a greater person to know; she was unafraid, even held a gun against him. Steve loved her, he really did, even if his teammates—the Howling Commandos—would give him dirt whenever he sighed over her compass picture.

He fell in love with her, in an instant, when she talked with him in the car.

Hell, bring it back. When she first walked into the barracks, he was gone for her.

But this—this was it again, multiplied by a hundred.

He was suddenly afraid by what this meant, because this meant he was _falling in love,_ and he doesn’t know what to do with that, because it’s just been two weeks since Peggy was gone, and they never got their dance, and here’s someone on the verge of his fingertips once again.

Here’s a man who seized Steve’s heart from the past and opened his eyes for the future. Tony was grounding him to the future, and he was so, _so_ afraid, that this will disappear once again, like how he crashed in the ice.

Darkly, he thought: maybe this was a dream in the ice, and I’ll wake up seeing everyone dead.

A sob crawled out of his throat—and an instant, Tony stopped from talking, and looked at him with worried eyes.

“Steve?” he whispered softly. “Are you alright?”

 _I think,_ he wanted to say. _I think I’m not. Please hold me. I’m lost._

“I think I am.” He managed to say in contrast to his thoughts. He resumed walking so the other man wouldn’t notice. “What was that you’re saying? The Empire State Building is a lightning rod? How so?”

Tony stared at him before walking behind him. “Well, yeah,” he said, and Steve fell for him even more because he didn’t disapprove for the topic change (and he’s been doing that all night long, this man was the most generous person he’s ever met in his whole life, second to his mother), “—it’s because charges from the storm want to ground themselves. Positive, negative atoms go and get angry in the sky, and then they separate, and a lightning flashes, and it wants to find something stable.”

“So it grounds itself?” Steve echoed, staring up the huge building as it came to their view.

Tony hummed in assent. “That’s what lightning does. It gets a bit heated and it goes off to many, many directions, but it would always find something to stabilize with. Mushrooms love it too.”

“Mushrooms?” Steve questioned.

“Yeah, nitrogen fixation, ammonia, et cetera.” Tony waved his hand. “It’s when dinitrogen gets converted into ammonia, and it happens because there’s nitrogen gas in the atmosphere. You know that air is comprised of different percentages of elements and substances right?”

“Oxygen, carbon, nitrogen…argon…?” Steve tentatively asked. He never was able to get a chance to catch up on science. He didn’t have the money to go to school.

“Right!” Tony clapped his hands. “So yeah. Lightning strikes and it feels like they energize the mushrooms and they go into panic mode. So they want to live, and they double their reaction processes, and boom, they multiply! Or that’s what they say, anyway. Maybe plants like the energy?”

“Huh.” Steve breathed. _Lightning wants to ground itself… and mushrooms get hit, and their life becomes more abundant._ For some reason, that statement stuck to his mind. He didn’t know why, but he felt—he felt a connection to it. “That’s. That’s amazing.”

Tony laughed. “You think that’s amazing, honey, wait till you get to see the _top_ of Empire State Building.”

They entered the building, and Tony paid for tickets-- _wow, people are still open at 12 am? Also I spent my seventy bucks uh oh—_ but the man just shooed his thirty bucks and winked.

He felt himself blush again, and he clenched his hands unconsciously.

That statement echoed in his head again. _Lightning strikes… and wants to ground itself._

They rode the elevator, and Tony’s excited fun facts of the tower dominated the elevator music playing. Steve kept nodding, and he responded correctly, but he was observing Tony more than listening to the facts that he was saying.

The elevator finally gave a _ding,_ and they were on top of the tower.

“Here it is!” Tony spread his arms high. “Look at that view!”

Steve walked to where he was, and lost his breath. The skyline was _gorgeous._ Buildings lit up into small lights, forming this little harmony, like they were living under the lights of the stars, and it reflected onto the lights below.

God, the bright lights that he hated from up close, were beautiful from this view.

How did Tony do that?

_Lightning strikes, and wants to ground itself._

“You like it, big guy?” Tony asked, stepping beside him. “Gorgeous, huh?”

_How did Tony make him love the future?_

Steve was silent; his eyes were clouded, Tony would’ve noticed.

“Steve?”

Blue-eyes blinked, and a happy, _really happy,_ heartfelt laugh came out of Steve’s mouth, surprising Tony. He felt alive. Like those—like those plants, that lived under the electric charges of lightning. Tony—he sought out Tony.

_Lightning strikes, and wants to ground itself._

Tony was staring at him, beautiful brown eyes wide in awe, and Steve felt alive. He moved to look at Tony, and he could feel his tears gathering in his eyes, but he trudged on.

He sought out Tony’s hands, and held them close to his chest. His heart was beating fast.

_Lightning strikes, and wants to ground itself._

“Steve?”

_Lightning strikes._

Steve didn’t hesitate to pull him into a kiss.

_And grounds himself._

_\--_

**12 am.**

(It felt like a new day.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm deciding to post all chapters, because honestly I really want to share it with all. So, I hope you would all like it :D


	5. 1 AM to 3 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They share a kiss, and a whole lot more.

**Chapter 4: 1 AM to 3 AM**

**1 AM**

Tony thought this was Steve’s night to enjoy, but by god, this was a morning he would never forget.

Steve’s lips on his, chaste, sweet, and electrifying, _god, god—_

“Steve,” he breathed out when they separated for air. “—Steve, shit, this isn’t some one-sided thing?”

Steve looked out of breath, but a wide grin was in his gorgeous face, and it felt like Tony was whole. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Steve’s eyes were watering again, and Tony didn’t know who sniffled. Probably him.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he reached for Steve’s neck and brought him down to a kiss. This felt even more electrified, and Steve was sliding his hand on his waist, and _holy shit, holy shit—_

Steve was the one to release the kiss, but not the embrace. “Did I just see sparks?” he sounded awed.

“I _felt_ sparks.” Tony laughed, resting his head on Steve’s chest. _Oh, this is my favorite place already._ “I can’t believe it. That was possibly the most romantic kiss I’ve ever had in my life. Do you know that’s a thing because of static electricity? Sparks. Oh my god.” He poked his chest. “You totally planned this!”

“I did _not,_ you chose this setting!”

“Tell me, sweetheart, who gave you this idea to kiss me here?” Tony squinted his eyes to look at him. Man, he just realized how much taller Steve was, and for all the times he felt little, this was one of those times he relished in it. “I need answers. I don’t believe you if you tell me it was _your_ idea, because you are a lost tourist and you couldn’t have known. You don’t even _have_ a map!”

Steve’s laugh was a rumble, and he felt a kiss on his head. “Well, I kind of was… inspired, by someone.” He tugged him even closer, if that was possible, and Tony welcomed the tighter hug. He just felt relaxed, and loose. Happy. “I thought, I should give something to the man that made my life a whole lot brighter.”

Tony wanted to say something, but Steve kissed his head again, silencing him. “And yes, I know—I don’t know you, Tony, and I don’t know what will happen after this day. Maybe we go back to who we are, what are lives are. But I’m not going to deny and forget this night with you. You’re amazing, Tony, and I can’t believe I’ve got to know you.”

 _But that’s the thing,_ he wanted to confess, _you don’t know me._

 _He makes me believe in people again,_ his heart whispered. _He’s got—he makes me want to be great, He makes me want to be good. I don’t understand. My whole life I strive to be perfect but this guy…_

_This guy just knows me for a few hours and it feels like we’ve known each other forever._

“Can I have another kiss again?” Steve asked, tilting his head upwards. Tony squashed down the urge to giggle, because Tony Stark doesn’t giggle, even if Steve didn’t know.

“What’s with the permission?” he countered, lips tilting up into a smile. “You’ve got a whole night, honey.”

 _It feels like we’ve known each other forever,_ his mind reminded again. _He’ll accept you, Tony. You can tell him._

_No, I’m just being an idiot. I’m just being stupid._

“Just wanted to see that gorgeous face again.” He raised his hand and laid it onto Tony’s cheek. “God, you don’t know how beautiful you are.”

Tony opted to lean into the hold, turning to kiss the hand. “Oh believe me, I know a lot, but do shower me with compliments.”

Steve kissed his on his forehead. “Of course, Mr. Billionaire, at your service.”

The genius gave the other man a playful shove, but Steve held on strongly. “Okay, that’s how you’re going to play it, Bulldozer.” He raised his hands and tried to escape Steve’s grip by a maneuver he was taught by Natalie, but then Steve just—countered it.

Steve, wonderful Steve, apparently knew combat (yes he was from the army but did they teach the army to counter those strikes?). Which wasn’t supposed to be a huge turn-on, but he definitely loved someone who could pin him down—

“Hey, you’re thinking again, you’re awfully non-verbal.” Steve huffed. “Come on now, Tony. Talk to me. You’re making me nervous here.”

“I.” Tony started, but then _you did that maneuver and oh god I shouldn’t be ready to take you to bed like that—_ wasn’t good, so he just broke off. “I.”

Steve was humoring him. “Yeah?”

“I can’t speak right now, _Steve,_ you try talking for five hours and more straight.” Tony mumbled against his chest. “This is a give and take. I tour you around, you give me compliments, you kiss me, I kiss you, I say stuff, and you say stuff.” He prodded his arm and his lips quirked a little at a little realization. “Come on now. You still haven’t said why you were looking at the clock.”

“The… clock?”

“Yeah. The one in Grand Central Terminal.” Tony reminded. “I owe a lot to that clock.”

“Oh, do you?” Steve said with humor.

“Yeah, somehow that made me go to you, and now I’m having the best time of my life.”

When Steve went quiet, Tony had another second of panic, thinking that he was revealing too much; and he _was,_ he was revealing so much more than anyone else. A laugh escaped out of his lips. “I don’t even know why I’m saying this to you, Steve. I don’t know why. Normally I just go down to my laboratory and hit my machines till kingdom come.”

“Dum-E wouldn’t like that. And who was the new one? U?”

He felt his arc reactor hum louder, and he tried to calm his excitable heart. “I won’t hit them, those are practically my children. No, I’m talking about legit—legitimate machines, like car engines.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, and suddenly they were swaying. _Good god,_ Tony thought as he held tightly to the other man’s back. _I’m being romanced._

“It’s the New York magic.” The taller man whispered. “It brings out feelings.”

“Even you?” Tony raised an eyebrow, looking at him. Steve met his gaze for a moment, and for a second they stopped swaying, as Steve pondered to say what he could say. When he could, his voice was soft as the breeze, and Tony tried to listen harder, afraid that New York ‘magic’ would be swept off by the wind.

“I lost… a lot, two weeks ago.” Steve closed his eyes. They started swaying again. “And I had to go back to my… home, to see if it was the same. A lot changed. Too much. And the people I grew up weren’t… here anymore. So I went somewhere that was vaguely familiar.”

Tony was quiet, gazing at the all-too familiar skyline of Manhattan.

“Grand Central Station—sorry, _Terminal—“,_ Tony huffed a laugh at that, “—was a normal place. It wasn’t overwhelming, for me, I think. But there were so much people, and it reminded me of a different… time, and I was staring at the clock because…”

“You wanted to turn back time.” Tony finished, connecting the dots to their earlier conversation. It felt silly, earlier.

Right now, it felt like the weight of the world was crashing on them, and Steve was grounding himself to reality, through him.

He didn’t know what to feel but _helpless_ and _resolute_ at the same time.

Good god.

“I did, yeah, I did.” Steve fiddled with Tony’s hair, and it was becoming one of his favorite things to feel, too. “But I still stand with what I said earlier. I… I wouldn’t have this night with you, if I have a time machine. So… thank you, Tony, for talking to me when I was staring at the clock.”

Tony’s cheeks burned, and he suddenly felt—felt _shy,_ of all things, from the praise Steve gave. “Shut up. It was—it was nothing.”

“But it wasn’t,” Steve pressed, stroking his sides as they swayed together. “It led us to here. I… despite everything that has happened to me, I wouldn’t give up this day for the world.”

“Yeah?” Tony breathed softly, looking up to clear, happy, azure eyes.

Steve’s eyes crinkled in genuine joy, and Tony found his lips stretching into a smile. “Yeah, Tony. Yes.”

It was only after a few minutes that Steve broke off the embrace, and he stopped himself from whining at the loss of contact.

Tony watched as he bent down and pulled out a towel from his bags—when did they _buy_ that what the hell. As if sensing his thought, Steve looked up and snorted. “I bought this with my own money, Tony.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Your face did.” Steve pointed out. He wiped his face with the cloth. “It’s easily readable.”

“It’s not, believe me.” It boggled his mind that Steve could read him well, just after a few hours. He had to remedy that. “I’ve made my face as unreadable as possible, for the—“

“Press, yes,” Steve nodded, and stood up again. “Your eyebrows twitch when you get exasperated by something. I’ve gotten that look a lot of times today.”

“I do _not_ twitch my eyebrows.” Maybe he did, but it was very subtle and you had to have some kind of special ability to see it. He gave him the stink eye and looked at the rod of the Empire State Building. “My face is a glass sheet. Smooth. Nothing sways me. I am the definition of a master emotion-cutter, I wield a deadly and quite _sexy_ smile. Nothing sways me. Nothing.”

“I swayed with you earlier.”

There was a beat of silence, before Tony turned his head towards Steve, who was impishly grinning at him. He had a golden foil ball in his hand, and was about a foot away from the ledge.

“You want?” He still said with that boyish grin on his face, and then he bit it. “Ish delishoosh.”

“Now you’re just mocking me.” Tony sighed, as he recognized his earlier action. “But fine, I’m going to _grace_ you with my presence, you jerk.” He sat down beside the other man, who just slumped down beside him and basically hung over him like a limpet. “Hey! I want to enjoy my food too!”

“Let me enjoy the view.” He said, staring directly at him, (and his heart skipped a beat, _fuck, this man will be the death of him, he knows it_ ) before kissing him on the cheek.

“Don’t do that to me, you’re such a prick.” Tony muttered as he tried to calm his pulse. Steve directed his gaze at him and stuck his tongue out, making him laugh.

Tony snaked an arm around the other’s waist, and sighed, closing his eyes.

_You’re a dangerous man, Steve._

* * *

 

**2 AM**

Steve didn’t know how long he was staring at the skyline, but being together with Tony… it made time fly away.

It felt like time was going faster again, and by his internal clock, it was around two in the morning, and he didn’t know what that means.

But he swore to have this night with Tony.

Tony in turn was sleeping; he was on his lap, quiet. He had dozed off moments after sitting next to him, and wasn’t even able to eat the bag of chips he bought earlier.

Maybe it was the cool, quiet, New York air, or the magic that he mentioned earlier. But gazing at Tony—Tony, who looked majestic (but he already did, even with the big coat and shades)—made his heart swell, heart full, like the time when he was little and his mother would tell her that she loved him.

 _Hey, Ma,_ he looked up into the sky, _could you help me?_

_I don’t know if I can tell Tony that I’m Captain America._

_Would—would he hate me? Would he like me? Would he treat me the same?_

_Will SHIELD even let me near him?_

_I think I love him, Ma._

_You’ll love him too._

_I never felt like this before._

He felt queasy. It’s only been two weeks, since he’s gotten in the future. Peggy, he loved him, she really did, but…

Steve tentatively placed his hand on Tony’s head, and then when the man didn’t wake up, relaxed. He carded his hand through his soft locks, and his heart constricted, because he _wants_ this.

He wants Tony by his side. He wants to know him more. He wants to be happy, and be grounded, and love the future, to find a home in this alien world.

Tony gave a glimpse of that home when he talked to him. Then he showed him what _could_ be, when he kissed him.

 _Get it together, Rogers._ He berated himself. _Is it really conceivable that someone can fall in love in one night?_

It wasn’t like he dismisses that concept, rather it was so _foreign_ to him. These types of things happened in fairy tales. Love at first sight didn’t happen to his mom and his dad, nor Bucky and his numerous girlfriends, or his neighbors at home. You formed bonds with those people that are similar with you, with shared experiences, hence why his parents got together, and everyone else: war, hunger, and poverty.

Which probably gave him this way of thinking, because it’s pretty obvious that this time, there wasn’t much of a war, or anything. Today’s war was mostly media, apparently, because Tony was afraid—well, not exactly _afraid,_ more of guarded—by them.

Being famous was scary. He knew the feeling, somewhat.

Then suddenly—the lights went out.

Steve looked around, thinking that someone was going to target him, or that SHIELD was going to get him, but as he peered curiously, it just seemed like the tower was just closing.

_Huh, so not everything is 24/7._

“Tony,” he patted the shoulder of the man. “Tony, wake up, the building has closed.”

The man was still deep asleep, making Steve snort _. Alright, here it goes._ “Tony, baby, you’ve got to wake up.” He whispered, kissing his ear and then blowing air in it.

Tony’s eyes began to move, and he blinked blearily awake. His hand tentatively reached out to caress Steve’s face, and the slow delight that built up on his face made Steve lose his breath. “Oh, wow, I could get used to a view like this, damn.”

Steve’s cheeks began to redden despite trying to will it away. “ _Tony.”_ He admonished, still not over the fact that Tony found him attractive. “Come on. The building is closing.”

Tony shot up so fast he could’ve given himself whiplash. “I—oh, shoot, I fell asleep?”

“Yeah. For twenty minutes or so.”

He smothered his face with his hand. “Wow, um, no offense, but your lap is like, the best pillow ever.” He then turned to stand up and headed to the exit. “Well, lest we get to stay here and be discovered as some kind of thieves in this building, we got to go. Come on!”

Steve rubbed his face, mind still set on _best pillow ever_. “You can’t just—“, he brought all of the bags and hurried after Tony. “—you can’t just _say_ those things and run off! Tony!”

The man was snickering as he opened the elevator. “Yes, Steve?”

“You are sometimes annoying, and this? Random things about me?” He poked the man on the cheek with his free hand. “It does. Things. Don’t do it Tony.”

Tony rounded him, closing the elevators and bringing it to ground floor. He closed in towards him, and Steve could feel his breath hitch as the man basically trapped him into the corner, as if he was the smaller one. His blush went haywire as Tony tiptoed, leaned in to his neck, and kissed him there; his hand snaked down to his shirt, and his hand was on his stomach- _oh god I don’t know what to do—do I? What do I--?_

“Tony—“, he mumbled, body feeling as if it was on fire.

Tony grinned, and dropped from his actions, opting to stand next to him. “Well glad to know that blush goes down. That’s adorable.”

 _Oh my gosh, he—he totally cornered me,_ he desperately shouted in his head. _I am going to die by the hands of this man._

“Relax, Steve,” Tony murmured. “We’re still on floor fifty. Don’t tell me you want me that bad already. I might not be able to stop myself.”

Despite the modern lingo, he understood what that meant, which just meant him look towards the numbers of the elevator as it slowly dinged down to ground level. “I am _trying_ to not blush here, Tony, just because I do easily and you don’t doesn’t mean you get to tease me all about it.” He had to keep his dignity intact here, _dang it._

“Parade rest again, soldier.” The other man laughed. “Relax. I’m just teasing.”

“Not like I’ve done this with any other person, so the teasing is kind of full-blown here.” Steve muttered.

_And he’s very open to it. What if someone opens the elevator? They’re going to see me just standing here like and idiot and Tony’s suave and they’re going to tease me because I’m doing parade rest as well. Get your head into the meeting, soldier, you’ve fought a war just two weeks ago!_

“Oh you haven’t done it before?” The tone had something vaguely curious but something other than that as well.

“Yeah.” He admitted, watching as Tony’s expression went from curious to… something that made him involuntarily shiver.

The elevator opened, and an employee entered, raising their eyebrows at the both of them.

“Ah.” Steve mumbled, nodding and giving them a half-smile.

The elevator was quiet, and as they reached the first floor and the elevators opened, the employee looked at them both and laughed.

“I tried not to say anything, but I hope you,” they twirled around a finger at their general direction, “—do something about that.”

“Will do.” Tony nodded, prancing out of the elevator.

Steve spluttered.

_Was everyone so open now? That person doesn’t even know us! Oh god, I’m panicking, I don’t know why I’m panicking._

_Breathe in, Rogers, breathe out, you’ve faced larger enemies than this._

He looked up from his place and saw Tony waiting by the door, a bright smile on his face.

“Come on Steve!” He beckoned towards him, and Steve shook his head as he fell in step with the other man.

A beat passed, before he huffed as they exited the building. “That. That was so awkward. Gosh, that was so awkward, why didn’t you _do_ something?”

“Why would I?” Tony snorted. “It’s an _elevator._ Everyone gets stuffy in elevators, awkward when other people than those who know them are there.”

 _I mean, that makes sense,_ he thought, _but._

“Couldn’t you have done like—small talk, Tony,” he almost-yelled. “—I’m, I’m trying here, I don’t know what you’re doing to me, and this day, this day—I kissed you, Tony, and I— _love you,_ you genius—but you’re out of my league, and honestly I don’t know why I’m angry—“

He received a kiss on the lips, shutting him up. He backed to see Tony’s delighted (and he could read those eyes, and he shivered at what that implied). “I got you, Steve.” He raised his wallet “You’re tense.”

Tony dropped a gorgeous smirk. “Now why don’t we book a hotel?”

Steve swallowed.

_I think I like the sound of that._

 


	6. 3 AM to 5 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Steve bicker, and spend some time in the hotel.

  **Chapter 5: 3 AM to 5 AM**

**3 AM**

They called the three o’clock the devil’s hour, and it feels like it was the absolute moment for Tony Stark to snag his companion into a hotel (and god, it still ached him that he couldn’t take him to Stark Tower). He was going to do this greatly, and he was going to put his talent full-blast, devilish moves and wicked smiles all the way.

By how Steve was keeping his arms at bay at his sides, all bags in both hands— _hah, he’s seen Steve carry those with one hand—_ they totally knew what they were going to do. Hence, Steve being panicky in the elevator. If he wasn’t the one who made the first move—stealing his _breath away—_ then Tony wouldn’t do this.

Tony would’ve just gone back to his house, and probably simper in his laboratory. As usual.

But no; Steve, adorable, awkward, parade-rest-when-embarrassed, artistic Steve, was a far braver man than anyone he has ever met in the world and in his lifetime. He took his opportunity, tilted his whole world by its axis, and shook him to the core. That kiss changed _him,_ shit, he wanted to challenge world leaders to force them into green energy or something.

He was just so _energized,_ and it was because of Steve.

And for some reason, it felt like he was that missing part of him that powers him, the part where the arc reactor can’t fill. He gave him his drive. He hasn’t been excited for something—someone, for months, and that was saying something.

“Where are you going?” Steve curiously asked. “Which hotel are we going to? I hope they aren’t pricey.”

“Steve,” he sighed at the incredulous request, “—you’ve got to understand, you’re in Manhattan, _New York,_ things will be pricey. Also, I am _not_ spending today in some down-in-the-dumps hotel. No, you’re coming with me, in a _great_ hotel.”

_I could also invite you to Stark Tower, but I’m a bit of a coward. You’d see right through me, and I don’t want that._

Steve pursed his lips, which got him distracted for a moment. “Alright, _fine,_ I concede.” He looked mulish though, and he was _definitely_ thinking of something else than getting into his pants, which, not good, he’s got to keep the vibe ongoing or they’ll suddenly laugh at one another and they’d smile, and they’d have a fun time—

Tony stopped walking suddenly, making Steve bump onto him. “Tony-!” he spluttered. “Tony you shouldn’t do that oh my god I’ve been hitting you—“, and then Steve was checking him like a harried nurse. But Tony wasn’t responding—no.

_Shit, I want to date him._

The admission felt like he ripped out his arc reactor, tossed it into a sky and played hot potato with it before putting it in his chest again.

_I want to date him._

His sex-driven addled mind dissipated out of existence, and Tony just felt like he had to _breathe,_ because _fuck,_ this wasn’t. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were becoming sexually-charged, and god, Steve was getting into it too.

The idea of being with Steve in a hotel delighted him so _bad_ but now he was just confronted with a new problem: his heart wouldn’t let Steve go.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

His original plan was to tour Steve around, and just goad the man into seeing different things. Maybe drink a little, or a lot, it depends. That kiss just settled in his mind, just now.

He was in love, and Steve was, too.

How the _fuck_ was he going to survive the night?

“Tony?” Steve’s concerned voice filtered in his brain. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you?”

He felt twitchy all of a sudden. “Fuck, Steve. How would you hurt me? You’ve bulldozed over me earlier. This is—you slamming onto me is nothing.” He marched into The Langham and presented his card to the clerk, who looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t say my name. Room for two.” He simply said. _I’m in love, and he feels like someone I should have in my life, but after this, it’s going to be nothing._

The clerk pursed her lips and just nodded, acquiescing to the request.

“Tony.” Steve called again.

Tony raised his hand. His head hurt suddenly. It always did when it was about feelings, especially ever since his heart decided to fail him regularly and had to be powered by the arc reactor. “Shut it. Not a word.”

That was _definitely_ the wrong thing to say, because he could literally _see_ Steve bristle. “Excuse me?” He demanded, blue eyes flashing icily. He placed the bags on the floor and crossed his arms.

Tony faltered. _You can say something you “would” say, so we can push him away before this all ends to shit._

 _No!_ He berated himself. _How could I even think that? Steve trusts me. I’m not going to stomp on that faith._

He looked at him straight in the eyes, and shook his head. “Ah—shit, Steve. No, I’m—I just realized something. I’m sorry I took it out on you, I swear I’m not really mad—“

“Sir?” The clerk asked. “I have your room.”

“Thank you.” He took the card and hurried to the elevator. He didn’t need to look back to see that Steve was trailing behind him, tentative and unsure.

When the elevators closed, Steve opened his mouth again, but Tony silenced him with a finger on his mouth.

“No. Room.”

Steve kept his mouth shut. The fact that the man stayed silent made him appreciate Steve even more.

When they got onto their floor, the air was tense, and a bit constricting. Tony unlocked their door, quietly, mind still _loud_ and _berating_ him—and went in.

Not a second after the door closed, Steve had already placed the bags on the table, and had his arms crossed.

He looked intimidating, and _shit,_ wanting to touch them was _not the time, Tony,_ because you’re going to have the talk. The talk that could make or break their… unique relationship, and if there’s anything that he wants constant in his life, are unique relationships.

(If he brought him to Stark Tower, then he could escape to his laboratory, like he does to all one-night stands he does.

But no, Steve doesn’t deserve that, he deserves to be dated, be loved, _fuck,_ he deserves anyone but Tony Stark.)

“If you’re thinking about ditching me, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

He blinked out of his stupor, eyes wide. “W- What?” He stuttered, not expecting Steve to talk.

Azure eyes looked at him with—with this _gaze,_ that he couldn’t take, and he looked to the side. “You’re a brave man, Tony. Kiss me.”

His hands shook, suddenly. “Steve, I just—realized, that I’m not someone who should be with you.” Steve was silent, which made him even more nervous, if it was possible. “Steve—I want, so much, but I can’t, because I’m me. I have.” His words were lost. “I have one night.”

_Where are my words when I need them?_

“I have so much, and I want to have this, to have you, god, I love you, you don’t understand.” He breathed in deeply. He didn’t understand what prompted this but he wanted to. “But I’m. I’m a man, with a lot of enemies, Steve, you deserve better. I’m—I’m fucked up, Steve,” he felt something wet on his cheeks.

He was crying.

“Steve, I, I’ve done so much wrong. Pepper—Pepper is angry with me, because I’ve been wasting away in my tower, and Rhodey’s been angry with me because I’ve been a literal child for the past months. I yelled at Dum-E, I yelled at U, _fuck_ I even got angry at JARVIS, and, and you—you _deserve better,_ Steve!”

He felt arms wrap around him, and for some reason, that _broke_ him.

He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, and he was doing this weak attempt to hit the man hugging him. It was futile, and he was spilling so much, and he didn’t know what he was saying.

He might’ve said he was Iron Man somewhere, and that ever since Afghanistan and Justin Hammer with his stupid lasso-throwing lackey he was going to be too much for Pepper, which is why she broke up with him. The fact that he yelled at Rhodey and debated on stopping War Machine because of the incident with Justin Hammer. The fact that he screened people three to five times in Stark industries because he can’t trust anyone easily anymore, not after Obie, not after Natalie.

“Go on baby, I have you.” Steve murmured, bringing him to the bed. “I’m here.”

“This isn’t fair again,” he sniffed. “I cry and you wave it away, you jerk, you’ve got to cry too.”

Steve’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Come on, I’m not going to _do_ that when you’re the one crying, baby.” He kissed his cheeks, wiping off the tears. “I… _can,_ call you baby, right?”

Tony snorted. “I’ve been calling you nicknames ever since we met, honey. I think ‘baby’ is excusable.”

“Oh, goodie, I was debating on that our ‘my fella’.”

That warmed Tony all over, more than he would like to admit. “You aren’t real, Steve. You aren’t, at all. How the fuck are you alive?”

“I don’t know, Tony.” Something about Steve’s voice indicated that there was something deeper to that statement, but Tony knew he wasn’t going to share.

That was okay. After all of this, Tony would do his best to find him again. He was a billionaire and a genius. Combine them together and he’ll rock the world. He’ll find Steve, and he’ll— _wait,_ no, that might be over the line of Steve’s sensibilities.

“No, no.” Steve smiled at him gently, and Tony was struck again once more on how _beautiful_ this man was, inside and out. “I want to tell you about me too.” He murmured as if he was reading his mind.

“But with secrets?” He asked, laughing wetly. The moment felt so intimate. “I’m pretty sure they’ve got The Langham bugged around here. The army might send rockets up your ass, Steve.”

“With secrets, yes.” Steve smiled, kissing the corners of his mouth before his lips. _God,_ he was so gone on this man. “But that’s not what I’m going to do first. I’ve got to take care of my fella. Kiss me, Tony.”

Tony found a surge of strength, and he pulled Steve to him, crashing his lips against his.

And then he was pushing him to the bed, and holy shit.

 _Holy shit,_ Tony yelled in his mind. _Holy fuck!_

Steve winked at him and began unbuttoning his coat. “I may not be experienced, Tony, but I know a thing or two.”

“Steve—“, he protested weakly, pushing himself up. The arc reactor suddenly intruded in his mind _._ “W-Wait, I should be—“

Steve leaned down and placed one hand on his chest, just where his heart was, where his arc reactor was. The man didn’t flinch or look curious; no, he just looked even more… _ready,_ and Tony licked his lips. (He shuddered involuntarily at the touch, because that wasn’t supposed to be sexy, but that somehow was, or was it because it was Steve?)

The blond looked at him underneath his eyelashes, and took his mouth onto his, and broke away. “Baby, let me take care of you.” He whispered, breath hot and heavy on his neck. “I’d love to, if I can.”

 _Jesus Christ,_ Tony whispered in his head, nodding in delight, _he’s just kissing me and I’m already gone. I’m wrong with the angel presumption, this man is going to drag me down to hell._

Steve’s eyes had gone half-lidded, and he started taking off his shirt.

 _He’s going to be the death of me,_ he thought as the man took his breath once again with a kiss, and then more.

_Fuck._

* * *

 

**4 AM**

Steve revelled in this feeling.

The feeling of being in-the-moment, of being fully aware of where you are, and what you’re doing. The feeling of knowing who’s with you.

The feeling of being alive.

The feeling of being in love.

It was something that he thought he would never have, much less into this frightening future.

In one night, he learned to love; more than his friendship with Bucky, than his brotherhood with the Howling Commandos, that his affection towards Peggy, than his familial bond with his mother. This love, made him whole, in something that he might’ve lost, if he didn’t do something right.

He was such a lucky man, no matter how out-of-this-world this experience might be.

“You’re smiling again,” Tony murmured on top of him. “What is it this time?”

Steve breathed in deeply, eyes open wide, a contented smile setting on his face. “Just thinking about you.” He admitted, sliding a hand over Tony’s back. “And a lot of things.”

Tony laughed, and god, this fella was _amazing_ in everything that he does. “ _Ooh,_ someone totally wants me.”

Steve’s cheeks reddened. “Shh, Tony, stop it.”

“Don’t pin this on me,” the dark-haired man teased, and the man had his hand again on his arm. “Or—“

“You are going to make _that_ joke, aren’t you.” Steve closed his eyes in distress. “Don’t, I can feel it.”

Tony chuckled, warm and bright. “Honey, if you’re telling me to not give me any innuendos after that striptease—don’t say it wasn’t a strip tease—“

“No it wasn’t!” Steve yelled in embarrassment. _It honestly isn’t, oh my god. I was just removing my shirt._

_Does that qualify as a striptease?_

_Oh god in the 1943 that was just removing your shirt--_

“--you’ve got a storm coming.” Tony was saying. “I’ve got a lot of jokes, right here and right now, and,” at that moment, he squeezed his arm, “—it’s making me feel like I’m staking a claim here.”

“Staking a claim?” He echoed, raising an eyebrow. “I thought this was ‘our first and last night’?”

Tony went quiet after that, eyes looking shuttered, lost. Steve’s heart broke a little, because that wasn’t supposed to be a jab. “Hey, hey. That’s not what I meant. I just thought that after everything, we won’t be able to meet again. You’ve got your life as a billionaire green-technology chocolate connoisseur—“

“Billionaire, former playboy, genius, philanthropist, Steve.” Tony corrected, resting his chin between his pecs. That made him blush a little, but he figured this was a thing that Tony did, and he loved Tony, so he’s going to yuck it up because he looked honestly adorable. “You’ve got to remember that.”

“Yes,” he nodded resolutely, and Tony gave a sweet smile at that. “So, you have that, and I have my super-secret life. I just kind of thought that it might be… um, impossible?” He shrugged. “Not that I don’t believe in those, anymore.”

Tony huffed. “Yeah, a lot of things that I thought were impossible happened in one night.”

That feeling of _love_ again burst in Steve’s heart, and he hugged the man closer to him, making him laugh. “Yeah. I just. Thought that. I don’t know if I get to see you again, baby, and it hurts, because all the time we’ve been here, and the time we’ve spend together—“

Tony sucked in his breath at the wording, before relaxing. “Yeah?”

“—all that time, I was. I was imagining coming home to you, after this. Somehow, I just know, that I belong with you, here.” He murmured truthfully. “And I don’t know how to handle that, but—“

He paused when he felt Tony’s hand intertwine in his.

“We’ll find a way.” Tony whispered, but it was a loud declaration in the quiet room. “Just like how we found ourselves together.”

Steve breathed out a laugh, lifting his other hand to stroke Tony’s cheek. “That was very cheesy, and you say you don’t say cheesy things.”

“I am _not cheesy,_ Steve, I am appalled that you’d even say that.” Tony rolled his eyes playfully. “But if I am, I’m more of the _exquisite_ kind. One that gets a lot of money flailing for a little bite. Understand that, buddy?” He poked him in the face.

Steve hummed, already getting the difference between how Tony _talks_ and _conveys_ his sentiments. “I think I understand. You just mean that you reserve these things for your fella.”

A beat, before, “Ugh, you are such an adorable man, I ought to kiss you senseless.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a smile. “Come on in, baby, kiss me.”

Tony climbed over to meet him face to face, and they paused for a moment, just staring into each other’s eyes.

“Hello,” Steve greeted softly, feeling—feeling _happy,_ the happiest he’s ever been in his whole life.

“Hello to you too, you adorable dork.” Tony laughed, kissing him fully on the lips. He held his face between his hands.

When they separated, Tony had a _look_ on his face. Steve had to laugh. “What?”

“I’ve got an idea.” The genius said, scrambling off of him. Steve frowned at the loss of contact, but he sat up to watch the other man tug on a bathrobe. “But we’ve got to plan this correctly.”

“Plan?”

“Yeah!” Tony nodded, and while Steve has enhanced thinking, he wasn’t catching up on what Tony wanted to do. “Alright, something to write with, a pen, pen, pen---“

Steve stood up and went over the desk in their room, and fished out the hotel ballpen. Tony made an appreciative whistle. “Oh wow, damn. Look at those back muscles. You’re getting me hard again.”

“Tony,” he flushed, “—we’ve talked about this.”

“No _buts,_ because suddenly between seducing me you delivered the worst joke in the world!” Tony exclaimed, grinning. “What did you say? Be my _Ferrero Roche---“_

“Please don’t remind me,” Steve groaned, getting redder and redder by the minute as his mind replayed _exactly_ how that moment happened, and how he tried to be sexy (never doing that again) and Tony burst into laughter. The man had pulled him down and laughed against his bare chest. He didn’t know what to do so he just stopped trying altogether and just held the other man tight as he laughed like a lunatic. “I thought it’d sounded good to say at the time.”

“Oh definitely, I love hugging you like that. As resident Chocolate Connoisseur—“, Tony gestured to his body, indicating Steve’s. “—definitely was a plus. Oh, I also decree that I think you’d go well with vanilla.”

Steve hummed as he thought out loud. “Well, from what you let me taste earlier, vanilla _does_ go well with chocolate.”

Tony choked, going forwards to Steve and kissing him on the nose. “You know, I had that image of you being an all-American Boy Scout, but apparently that’s a fantasy I can reject.”

“A fantasy, hm?” Steve mumbled, putting his hands on Tony’s face. “Does it bother you?”

“Not at all,” the brown-haired man admitted with a grin, “—I like that side of you. I can do a lot with this.” He wiggled his eyebrows appreciatively at Steve’s half-naked body.

The blond went bright red, and he lifted his hand to block Tony’s eyes. “To- _ny.”_ He whined.

“Can’t appreciate the nice view?” He smirked, tossing him the other bath robe, which he caught easily. He watched as Tony sat on the bed and began writing. “I mean, honestly, you got to stare at my arc reactor the whole time, and for a second I thought you’d want to stop and draw all of a sudden.”

“It’s a beautiful thing.” Steve admitted, itching for a pen and paper now as well. “It keeps you alive. I have to.”

He noticed how Tony stopped for a moment, before glaring at him. “Now, you, Boy Scout, you can’t say those _sappy_ things while I’m planning here, and while being naked. How dare you,” he was furiously scratching out something from the pad paper. From his enhanced hearing, he could hear Tony mumble out, “—making me feel this way it’s so stupid, it’s my arc reactor he doesn’t get to make me feel this way…”

Steve quirked a smile. As he looked at the paper—and whatever the hell was Tony computing now, he didn’t know (but _wow_ , that’s a lot of calculations).

After watching him go on for a full minute, he decided to ask. “What’s that, Tony?”

“A plan,” he explained. “A _plan,_ on how we could meet again, without people hounding us, ever. I’m going to spend the shit out of this time.”

“A plan?” Steve repeated. “I thought you’d rather want to…”

Tony stopped. “Want to?” He asked, looking up from the bed.

Steve brought his hands together and blushed. “I just. Wanted to hold you. Till.” He must’ve looked ridiculous, standing in front of Tony in a robe and boxers. “Till the sun rises. I want to hold you in my arms till we go our separate ways.”

Tony went silent, before bending forward to get closer to him. “I’m going to run permutations,” Tony tapped the pen on his temple. “To see if there’s a possibility that we could meet again.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Per— _permutations?”_

“Possibilities are endless, right?” Tony nodded to himself. “And I’m someone that can make possibilities real. I’m going to look you up, when I get home, and god, you just _need_ to turn on the television to get to know me. I’m going to know your name because I can.” He paused.

“But will you?” Steve asked softly.

Tony stopped, before slumping his shoulders. He laid the paper to the side. “Honestly, I don’t have the heart to search you up, Steve. I—I want to know you when we can be. Together. I want to learn your name when it’s alright and we’re okay.”

Steve knew giving his name wasn’t supposed to be hard. He was going public in a few weeks, or so, maybe, if ever the “Avengers Initiative” meant for Nick Fury and SHIELD.

But for some reason—for someone to know him, outside Nick Fury’s influence, felt oddly personal.

Important.

It was like—sharing who you are before who you could become in a few steps. He was Steven Grant Rogers, soldier of World War Two. Part of the Howling Commandos.

Captain America.

_It’s like saying a secret, and that secret could destroy any chance of us meeting again._

“We can be okay.” Steve smiled, and his lips wobbled. “I just need you close to me. And we could be okay.”

Tony offered out his hand, and Steve reached out and took it—and Tony pulled him in, and Steve fell. As if he wasn’t made to fight a war, as if he wasn’t Captain America. As if he wasn’t two-hundred pounds of muscle.

He just fell, next to Tony, who curled up towards him.

(Steve fell for him.)

He felt his lips curl up into a smile as he faced the other man, who, in turn, chuckled softly.

“You know,” Tony whispered, just like they were sharing secrets, as if they’ve known each other for a long time. “—I don’t think I want to sleep, which isn’t a first, if you want to know something about me.”

“Yeah?” Steve answered back. “Giving wandering tourists a show of the city your night occupation?”

Tony huffed, lightly patting his chest in a mock punch. “No, I reserve that with certain types of people.”

“Like me?”

“Like you,” he confirmed, “—and only you. But what keeps me up at night are my inventions… genius, you know.”

They turned quiet, and Steve couldn’t help but speak, as if this—if _this,_ was the perfect moment to say it.

Because Tony deserved to know him, too. Even if there was a chance that somehow, SHIELD was listening in.

“I… haven’t been sleeping well, too.” He said, and he could feel his heart speeding up. “I go to sleep accepting this… life, that I’m in, and I dream of people that I love. I dream about those times, in the… past.” He swallowed, voice cracking. “And I wake up, and—and everything is so different now.”

“I thought I could go back,” he confessed. “—because I hate… no, I don’t. I just don’t… know where to stand anymore.”

Tony looked up to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Can you tell me?” He asked, holding Steve’s hands. “And different things in between? I promise I’d keep them secret. No paparazzi will hear them.”

Steve had to break out a laugh at that, pleased to see the smile on Tony’s face. “I know you would.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Tony reminded. “I’m just asking… I mean, I’m not good with feelings, but if I can… help, in any way I can…?”

“Just the good things.” Steve murmured. “And a little of other things in between. Alright, so… I actually despise cold environments that much—because in the past, as I grew up, I’d have the worst colds…”

And that was how he and Tony spent the hour; where the seconds flew fast, the minutes blurring into one another.

They talked about diverse things, ranging from Tony’s robots and his AI, to Steve’s experience in the army. About maybe they could meet in coffee shops and coffee runs, or maybe when Steve would exercise again and Tony would disguise himself like a hobo again. Maybe, when Tony was going for a gym and find Steve doing squats—( _Tony, oh my god not this again) (But sweetheart, if you can only see how you blush, you’d understand.)—_ and different things, again and again.

It’s as if the world stilled itself for a moment, for them to have their time together.

 _My name is Steven Grant Rogers,_ he wanted to say out loud, because he knew he was losing time. _I came out of the ice two weeks ago._

“I wish I could leave you something, Steve.” Tony murmured, perfectly content sitting on Steve’s legs. He was kissing his jaw now, and Steve was stroking the man’s side and circling the arc reactor. “Something to remember me by.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “You bought me that jacket that I didn’t want.”

“But you totally look hot in it, honey.” Tony countered, but continued. “Something better. Something personal. Special. I just want for you to remember me.”

 _Are you joking, Tony?_ Steve’s heart felt like it was lodged into his throat. _I won’t forget you. Not ever._

_You gave me your name. You gave me your time._

 “I’ll remember you forever, Tony.” He opted to say as he kissed his ear. “No one could ever forget you.”

“But I don’t want you to remember me like other people do.” Tony whined, twisting around his grip and looking him straight in the eyes. “I want you to remember me, unlike the world has seen.”

Steve reached out to put his hand on the nape of Tony’s neck, curling his hand gently around it. He thought about what to say for a moment, and nodded to himself.

“I think I have,” Steve confessed, bowing his head. “I think I have seen the side of a man that wants to stay strong for the world and change it for the better, that other people haven’t seen before.”

And that was true. This man, who has experienced so much, was building the future of the world.

The world that Steve would like to partake in, if he could.

A world that Steve might look forward to, to learn about, if he was next to this man.

Tony tilted his head up, and Steve was struck again, on the realization—that somehow, he must be here for the future, for a reason. Maybe this particular reason.

“And I think I’ve seen the side of a person who wants to believe again,” he spoke softly, “—someone who lost so much, and wants to find the world again.”

Steve sucked in his breath, eyes wide.

_Does he know?_

“I’m a normal man, Steve,” Tony murmured. “And… I have a feeling that you’re more than you let on. I don’t understand why, but maybe there’s a reason why, and… I trust you.”

Steve exhaled, not knowing what to say.

“One day, we’ll meet again.” The genius continued, putting his hand over Steve’s chest, like a promise. He leaned into him, kissing his lips.

“Let me believe in magic, for once in my life. Let me believe in something that I’ve never had before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, just a few chapters more! Hope you're enjoying! Please tell me your thoughts down below! It will be greatly appreciated :D


	7. 5 AM to 8 AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the last few hours trickle on by, as the inevitable end to their night comes in with the sun rising.

**Chapter 6: 5 AM to 8 AM**

**5 AM**

They hired the cab, for a change.

And Steve was strangely quiet, but he had held on to his hand to whole time, after his request earlier.

_I want to see the sun with you._

It was such an inane, little request, and Tony, for once in his life, realized that he never had seen the sunrise just for what it is.

He grew up waking up at sunrise, but he hated it, because his family was always gone. It meant going to school, and being held back. It meant new things to do, things he hated, and sometimes loved, but generally hated because night time was his ‘prime’ time. It meant classes, it meant meetings, it meant proceedings; it meant being with people who are hungry to pull him down.

So he nodded, cleaned up, called for a taxi, and went out.

He felt Steve’s hand grasp him tighter, and he squeezed back in return.

The ride was quiet, except timid murmur of the radio. The taxi driver seemed to sense the somber mood, and didn’t talk to them, until they reached the pier, a sight that Tony knew would be a good view for the sunrise.

Steve went out first, breaking their hold. He picked up the bags they’ve had for the night and headed towards the pier.

That hurt a lot more than he’d like to admit, but he knew that it was just a normal action.

“Hey.” The driver-- an old man with shades, what a legend-- called, halting Tony from exiting the cab. “He needs a hug.”

Tony tried a smile. If cab drivers could notice, then it was going to be serious. “Yeah, I figured.”

He caught up with Steve, who was looking straight at the sea, where the sun was going to rise.

“Steve.” He called, going to his side. “We’re here.” He rocked on his heels, putting their belongings on the bench next to them. “We didn’t walk, huh?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, but he still wasn’t looking at him.

Tony looked at his hand and tentatively reached for it, and couldn’t help a smile when the man accepted it. “Sunrise, huh? After your little romantic tryst on the tower, I didn’t think you’d even do anything more romantic than that.”

He knew he was joking, and it was inappropriate. But sometimes, things get too serious, and he was just trying to break the somber mood. He just wanted to see Steve smile.

He just—looked so _sad,_ he couldn’t understand.

“You were the one who booked the hotel, Tony.” The other man pointed out, and _there_ it was, the beginnings of an improving mood. “And the one who totally got me on the last note.”

“You got me on first kiss and you actually tried to do-the-do,” Tony countered, and Steve’s lips were twitching into a grin now. “But I _will_ say, I got us dinner, and I totally took your around midtown Manhattan for a night.”

The blond nodded. “That you did, that you did. I think I know certain locations now, just by squinting at the sky. Manhattan’s got a lot of skyscrapers.” He was full out grinning now, and his eyes were shining in realization. “You’re such a jerk, Tony. You know how to make me laugh.”

 _It’s not my fault that I know you,_ his mind supplied, which, _god._

_How is that possible?_

Steve was just so easy to read; his eyes were a dead giveaway. He wanted to see them all the time.

“Well, big guy, you’re not exactly the _talkative_ type.” He wrapped his arm around the other man’s thin waist, and his other hand settled on Steve’s arm. “And you’re talking to the genius here. I’ve got to communicate with you through another way, you know.”

Steve hummed. “Yeah, out of the two of us, you’re certainly the one with the good mouth.”

That brought out a choked laugh from Tony, making him separate from him for a moment. “Oh my god! That was dirty! I’m becoming a bad influence on you!”

The blond had a straight face, innocent and angel-like. “What do you mean? You’re the talkative one, like you said.”

“You are such a little shit, you know that,” Tony said, exasperated. He took the leather jacket that was perched on his broad shoulders—which, _score, Tony, look at this man, he’s born to have leather jackets on his body, damn—_ and playfully pushed and pulled him. “—how can you deliver those lines with the most angelic face in the world?”

“How can you say innuendos without flinching, Tony?” Steve said back, grinning, swaying back and forth. He looked like he was enjoying it, and in turn, Tony enjoyed it too. “Par for the course, sir. You’ve got to deliver.”

Tony snorted, and released his hold on the jacket, patting him. “You are a giant, you jerk, come down.”

Steve cocked his head and snaked a hand under his butt and lifted him. “Better?”

Tony laughed out loud. “Shit, why’d I’d ever think you were innocent, I don’t know why. You are a dangerous man, Steve.” He kissed him fully on the lips, laughing. “One night, and your personality goes three hundred and sixty.”

“You just got to know me, Tony.” Steve answered honestly, staring up at him. He shifted him downwards, and then he was kissing him again. “You just got to know me.”

“Yeah,” Tony breathed out, nodding. “I did, and you did too.”

Steve paused again, as the first rays of sunlight started to filter in.

The effect was heavenly, something that Tony never fully had time to appreciate ever before. It felt like the world was waking up, the sky becoming a mix between a pale yellow and blue mix. Clouds were gaining shape, and jet-streams were prominent in the cool air.

It felt like the water on the pier were reaching out to greet them, and people were filtering in, to start the day.

It was a side of the world that he hadn’t really appreciated ever, before.

(Maybe he should?)

 _How do you do that, Steve?_ He thought in awe, watching as the light made the blond’s features look ethereal. _How do you make me inspired to be better?_

Steve’s blond locks shone as the sun rose slowly, and then he could finally make out the man’s azure eyes, glossy, with tears. Tony opened his mouth to say something, something idiotic like _did you fall out of heaven because you look like an angel_ or _when you smile, the whole world lights up_ or _I think I found the way for the world to achieve renewable energy with just you_ but Steve beat him into it.

“Steve Rogers.”

Steve put his head down. Tony’s eyes widened.

“My name. Is Steve Rogers.” He breathed in deeply. “And you, Tony Stark, makes me want to face another day, and another, and another, every day.”

_His name is Steve Rogers?_

“Steve—“

“I was lost, Tony,” he barrelled on. His shoulders were hunching, but he was soldiering on. “I was lost, and you were there. You saw me and you talked to me, and god, you, with your chocolate brown eyes, and your funky beard that I grew to like; you, with your oversized coat and bottle of vodka. You and your Ferrero Roche. God, I want to tell you so bad about Pietro.”

“Steve,” Tony whispered, because he was getting a sense of who was standing in front of him. How his mind ended up on that, he didn’t know, but he knew to trust his instincts. “Steve.”

 “And I know, that I don’t have much time. I have,” he swallowed hard, “—I have to get back, but I had to see the sun rise with you, baby, I want to see you shine with the sun, because I saw how you glittered in the moon.”

He looked up. “And you shine, Tony, you do.” Steve’s voice was cracking. “God, I love you.”

Tony stood there, shocked; he didn’t know how to respond, and his mouth was dry. His mind had stopped, his breathing had stilled, and his heart had clenched.

He couldn’t say anything, for the life of him, because-- because---

Because that was the most beautiful thing someone had ever said to him in his whole life.

 _The sunset,_ his mind shouted, amidst his ragged breathing. Why did Steve want to see the sunrise with him? Because those things—those are for _romantic movies and novels,_ and why was Steve--

Then he realized; Steve was saying goodbye.

Their time was up.

It felt like a slap to the face.

This whole night, this whole thing that he cooked up just to entertain him from being bored out of his mind from Grand Central Terminal—it wasn’t supposed to end like this. It wasn’t even supposed to start so _fun_ and somewhere down the road that _fun_ turn into _like_ and then it became _love._

He didn’t think that it’d reach this point.

How couldn’t he think it’d reach this point?

Was he really denying it all night?

Tony didn’t know how to answer, but the feeling that was building up in his chest was too much all of a sudden, and he smashed his lips against Steve’s, as he tried to convey everything, the _I love you’s_ and the ‘ _We’ll find each other’s_ in his mind.

“We’ll find each other, Steve Rogers.” He murmured, and he was _sure_ of it. He was _sure_ of it, that he’ll find Steve. “I know I will.”

Steve gave a small, trusting smile. Tony smiled back.

_I know I will._

* * *

 

**6 AM**

“It’s nearing six.” Tony whispered. He pointed somewhere to the side. “Want to take a hotdog?”

Steve barked out a laugh, because it was so random, and so, so _Tony,_ just after his admission.

“I don’t think so.” He answered, curling his over Tony’s neck. “I still have the rotisserie chicken in me, and that apple I had for like, a minute before we left.”

“You wanted to get here as soon as possible, Steve.” The brown-haired man rolled his eyes. “I was ready for breakfast in bed, and I could see you naked.”

“Crass.” He murmured without heat.

Tony patted Steve’s stomach, which made him blush. “But I think I’d have that ingrained in my brain, honestly.”

“Tony.”

“Steve.” Tony answered back, a smirk on his face. He turned his gaze to the water, and Steve followed him.

“The jacket looks good on you,” he said after a minute or so. “I’m glad that you wore it. Your shirt was totally inappropriate the whole time.”

“I resent that,” Steve muttered, _because it’s a SHIELD-given shirt and if you’re saying that, it really looks bad._

“No, no, you looked like a great sight,” Tony smirked, kissing his chest. Steve felt his face heat. “I mean, honestly, tell me you actually model somewhere. I’m going to start a clothes line. You model every single men’s outfit.”

“I think you can find better people to model it, Tony,” he chuckled.

Tony stayed quiet for a moment or two, before he took Steve’s hand again.

“Hey,” the genius whispered. “When you get to know me, promise me that you’ll still love me?” His hands shook, and Steve took them in his hand to calm him down. “Tony Stark is a big fuck-up, after all. People leave all the time, you know?”

Steve frowned. “I’m not—“

“No,” Tony laughed, “—that’s a constant with the life of Tony Stark. People leave. People get tired of me, when they get to know me.”

“I didn’t,” Steve responded immediately. _I wouldn’t._ “I had a wonderful time with you, Tony Stark. This was the best night of my life.”

“No, you don’t understand, god, this is probably a curse in itself, you know?” He was laughing again, and it was painful to see. It made Steve’s heart break. “Tony Stark, finds the love of his life but we can’t be together. Fuck, it just—why does my life always turn into shit? Why?”

“Tony,” Steve said louder. “We’ll find each other. You said that.”

“I know who you probably are, Steve!” Tony revealed, and Steve suddenly understood. “And I don’t know if I can take it.  I don’t know,” he shook his head.

“You can.” Steve urged, as he pulled the man into a tight embrace. “You can, baby, come on. You’re a good man, Tony, don’t think less of yourself.”

“That’s just your goody-two shoes talking now, Steve.” Tony murmured, but he didn’t let go. “Too good.”

“Not so,” he commented. “I tried to trip you earlier. And you told me I was a jerk.”

“I remember the words as ‘little shit’, but okay.” He could feel Tony’s smile. “That’s true. Oh. You’re tarnished now.”

Steve closed his eyes, intertwining their fingers together. “I love you, okay? Don’t forget that. It even feels like love at first sight. It’s impossible to not love you.”

A moment of silence descended upon them, and Tony shifted in his hold, to look at him.

“So it’s goodbye, huh?” He murmured knowingly, and Steve’s heart tore itself into many pieces at the reminder of the time.

He’s been denying the fact that seven would even come, from the back of his mind. Seven am was when SHIELD checked up on him, and it’s not like he left a note or anything to indicate his absence.

If SHIELD couldn’t find him anywhere, he knew that they’d comb the whole city to find him, and interrogate every person he’s encountered. Then Tony would be involved, and they’d separate them, because Tony wasn’t supposed to interact with Captain America.

He couldn’t bear the fact.

“It’s see you later, Tony,” he weakly corrected, as he felt the beginnings of tears gather up in the corners of his eyes once again. “We’re going to see each other again.”

“Against all odds?” Tony asked, and he had that beautiful smile now, the real one, the one that he loved.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Against all odds, we’ll meet one another, and I’ll— I’ll take you out for dinner next time, Tony.”

“Yeah?” Tony breathed, and he wiped his eyes. “And I’m going to kiss you on the top of my building. I’ll find sparks and everything.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh, and he swallowed hard. “You—you do that, my genius.” He started to stand up, but his legs felt weak, like they were lead. “I’ll. I’ll go, Tony, see you—see you later.” He tried to move, but Tony wouldn’t let go.

“Let me walk you.” Tony pleaded, hands shaking as he fisted Steve’s shirt. “Let me see you go.”

“Don’t, please.” He pleaded. “Just close you eyes for me, baby. Please.” He murmured. “Close your eyes when I leave. I can’t—I can’t walk away from you if I know you’re there waiting for me.”

“Steve.” Tony whispered, breathless.

“Please.” He begged.

Tony looked at him and gave a wobbly smile. “Give me one kiss, soldier, and a smile. A remembrance of the greatest day of my life, Steve.”

He smiled as he leaned in, and then kissed Tony with all his might; _I love you, god damn it, I love you, let me see you again, please._ He could even feel the tears sliding down his cheeks. _Please, if someone could hear me. Let me meet Tony again._

And as he separated from the kiss, he couldn’t stop the choked-off sob that got lodged in his throat.

“Thank you for the tour, Tony.”

Tony still had his head tilted up, from their kiss, and he had tears streaking down his cheeks too.

But his eyes were closed.

And in a second, Steve was gone.

* * *

 

 

**7 AM**

He knew he promised Steve that he’d close his eyes, and he did.

It was one of the biggest mistakes he had ever done in his life.

Tony opened his eyes after a minute had passed, and he touched his lips, just to have that feeling of Steve’s lips on his one last time.

He knew that Steve would be gone when he opened his eyes, but there was a small part in him that wished that Steve would be still there, hitting him with a golden-foiled ball on the forehead. With that stupid, dorky smile, and maybe a _“I got you, Tony”_ joke. But no.

He really was gone, and Tony Stark felt a chill go through his body.

 _Come on, Stark,_ he urged himself, shaking. _Let’s go back. Pepper and JARVIS will wonder where you went off to._

He bent down to get the bags that Steve had carried the whole night for the both of them, and called Happy, who was just relieved to hear him safe.

As he waited, he sifted through the contents of the bags, and noticed something new—a piece of paper, and an apple.

_The apple that Steve… ate?_

He took the paper with the apple, and immediately lost his composure.

It was a drawing of the arc reactor, with a little message on the back.

 _I had to rush this, Tony,_ it read in Steve’s beautiful handwriting. _But I wanted to give you something that I could._

“Damn it, Steve.” Tony couldn’t stop the tears now, and his hands were shaking.

_Don’t worry if you didn’t give me something like that. This night—this tour was already the most precious moment of my life, and I have to admit, you spent a lot for me than I did._

_(That was a lie. You bought me a good jacket. I also took your chocolates. Just to remember you by, Mr. Chocolate Connoisseur.)_

_I love you, Tony. Don’t forget that you’re an amazing person._

_It only took me one night to see that. I hope we get to see each other to spend more time._

_Love,_

_Steve_

“Damn you, Steve,” Tony whispered, gathering the things as he saw Happy arrive. Every step felt like he was walking in quicksand, ready to fall at any second. For a moment, he thought it wouldn’t end like this, but he knew reality would come crashing down once again.

It was a wonder that Steve made him believe in being free, for a moment in time.

Silently, he opened his own door and slumped on the seat. At his silence, Happy turned around in worry.

“Tony?” He gently asked, taking into note the numerous bags surrounding him. “Are you alright? What happened?”

Tony swallowed, clutching the drawing in his hands, letting out a genuine, bittersweet smile.

“I just had the best night of my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay no lie, I was in ugly tears at the 7 am part asldjkksad Please tell me your thoughts down below!  
> (Epilogue will be in a few days. I'd love to hear your comments! Also, thank you to those who gave me comments aa)


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve pines because of SHIELD, and the awaited reunion appears.

**Epilogue**

**Morning: 5 am**

_Darling, I’m always right, I’m the genius between us._

That was correct, it seemed. This guy knew what he was always talking about, his chatter full of knowledge of different things and opinions on other tasks. He talked really fast. He was amazing.

_You are such a sap, Steve._

A laugh crossed his lips. Those—were great looks, on that handsome man he spent a night with. His laugh rang through his mind, and that twinkle in his brown eyes; it held so much joy.

_Give me one kiss, soldier, and a smile._

Eyebrows scrunched together, as he tried to piece together the rapidly blurring images of his dream. That wasn’t—that wasn’t right. Why is he hunching over? Why’s he going farther?

_Tony, Tony come here, look up, please--_

Then, it was ending—this wonderful thing was ending, and then—

Steve snapped open his eyes, and whispered almost immediately afterwards, _“Tony.”_

He was in his SHIELD-assigned room, alone. He wasn't in a hotel, accidentally dozing off. He was-- alone. 

He groaned, bringing up his hands to rub his eyes with his palms. He squinted to the side to see the time, noting that it had just turned five in the morning, and the sun, hasn’t come out yet.

_That’s one hour of sleep. Finally._

He groaned as he pushed himself to sit down; his body didn’t ache anymore, unlike last night when he decided that trying to learn kick-box was suddenly needed in his life. He understood why he needed to learn those—Youtube was something that he has learned to appreciate, while he was basically under tight surveillance by SHIELD—because he quickly found out that you can learn a _lot_ from the video website.

_Five in the morning._

The time bugged him, because usually he woke up about four (meaning, as he actually slept around three thirty, didn’t really get that much sleep at all) for the past two weeks. It was disconcerting to finally wake up an hour late, but apparently his dreams were much more forgiving this time around; it wasn’t about the ice, nor Bucky, nor Peggy, but Tony.

 _Tony,_  also known as Anthony Edward Stark.

As he prepared to have his morning routine (which consisted of take a shower, put on clean clothes, take the most unobtrusive run around the helicarrier, and eat breakfast in the private lunch area he was assigned to) his thoughts drifted to the man in his dreams. Tony was still emblazoned into his memory even after two weeks. His smile, his laugh, his eyes, his weird beard, the extremely large coat, his hands, his lips—they were all embedded into his brain.

He had to remember those all, like the back of his hand.

He doesn’t want to let Tony’s memory go away.

_Let me believe in magic, for once in my life. Let me believe in something that I’ve never had before._

Those words haunted his mind for several days, as if it was a promise that he had agreed to but never verbally. The water that cascaded onto his body reminded him of that time, in the hotel, where they spent their last few moments together, Tony cradled into his arms.

It was after what it felt like a long time did he finish showering when another statement echoed in his mind.

_We’ll find each other._

“God, Tony,” he murmured, looking at the mirror, observing his bloodshot eyes—he was crying? He didn’t know he was crying, not again, not again—“I miss you.”

_Against all odds?_

He couldn’t stop the sob that crawled into his throat. His dream was so vivid; he had remembered every single thing. Tony’s ridiculousness, his jokes, even his innuendos, and then to the tender parts of their evening, where he discovered the man who brought out his heart for everyone, the man who was so generous the world was indebted to him.

He thought about how many times he was turned down, and after two weeks, he felt like giving up and just let have SHIELD their way. But no—he promised, he promised to find him, to get to him too.

“I’ll try again, Tony,” he said, with resolution. “Against all odds.”

* * *

**Morning: 7 am**

Steve wanted to grumble in annoyance, but he was a professional, so he has to keep it easy.

“Look, Captain Rogers,” Agent Hill sighed, putting a hand on her head to rub her temples in what he perceived as annoyance. “I’ve told you, time and time again. You _can’t,_ go down. You are being integrated to the twenty-first century, and we at SHIELD can protect you the most.”

“Protect me from what?” Steve grunted, keeping his tone in check and not letting any sliver of pettiness in the way. He’d just sound like a child and his reputation—whatever that was—might not lead to good results in the future. “I’m sorry. I just want to see my country after… seventy odd years? I think this is unfair.”

To her credit, Maria Hill gave him a small smile in apology. “There are a lot of threats, Captain, it’s not just Nazis and such on the ground or in the sky that you have to look out. Your status as a hero has been elevated for so long; they could recognize you. Your serum is a… hotspot, of sorts. People still want to recreate that.”

He knew that. “I know that,” he nodded, seeing the logic. “But really? I think I look like the most American person to be American, if that makes sense. I’m not special. I’m,” he paused, “—just a kid from Brooklyn. That’s just what I need to be. It’s not like, the first thought of people when they see me is _that guy is Steve Rogers, the guy injected with the super soldier serum._ No.”

“No, indeed.” Maria allowed herself to smile, which, that was actually relieving, because Steve hasn’t seen her smile for the four-or-so weeks he’d been there in SHIELD. She wasn’t a robot (he had thoughts like those, sue him) and that was reassuring. “But to those who have studied you for so long? SHIELD is best at protecting, more than keeping secrets, I should know. We try hard but it’s impossible.”

“Yes,” he murmured. “Technology is your first and friend and enemy in this century. Wield it and you might start a war for the media.”

Agent Hill’s stance changed as she regarded her with a searching gaze. “Have you read… about Tony Stark?”

 _Only like, a few magazines or so._ “The… billionaire genius, right?”

“Yes,” she nodded, and she hasn’t removed her gaze from him. He felt uneasy, but stood his ground. “What’s your opinion on him?”

“He’s swell.” He almost said immediately, making her raise her eyebrows. “I, hm. He’s really great, with his green technology and his arc reactor. He’s got the Maria Stark Foundation and—“, he stopped as he noticed Maria’s stare. ”—such.”

“How do you know—“

“Maria.” A new voice came in, disrupting their small conversation. It belonged to a redhead, donned in an all-black suit; she had an almost-neutral, but also a teasing glint in her eyes. “Stop interrogating the Captain.”

“Widow,” Agent Hill greeted. “I was doing no such thing.”

Steve willed his face into a blank slate as the redhead roller her eyes in response to Agent Hill. “Miss Romanoff.”

“I thought we agreed to you calling me ‘Natasha’.” Natasha smirked.

Steve couldn’t stop the snort from escaping him now, which startled Maria marginally. “And I told you to stop calling me Captain.”

“Touche,” Natasha smiled.

Natasha Romanoff was a curious one; she was really agile, and tactical. He’s sparred with her for a few times, and he _knew_ that she was tasked to watch over him, but over the last few weeks, he found somewhat of a kinship between he and she. Maybe because he just really liked great people, or people who could tolerate him? That was a large deciding factor.

She was also really clever, often finding ways to update him about the outside world, like inane news such as _traffic is bad, but it’s not the worst,_ and she had a surprising sense of humor, like _Starbucks is a thing have you ever tried Iced Americano?_

She also somehow knew about his (from what he assumed was her perception) admiration and infatuation with Tony Stark. She hadn’t told Fury about anything though, so that was alright.

She walked over them, siding next to Steve nonchalantly, handing him a chocolate bar out of nowhere, which Steve greatly appreciated. He felt famished, not eating breakfast yet. To Agent Hill however, she said, “Maria, I’m taking over. Fury needs your help.”

The other woman, if she noticed the subtle way Natasha had maneuvered the situation, didn’t say anything about it and just gave them a nod before leaving the room.

Steve looked at the corner of his eyes and sighed. “You totally caught me.”

“Quite easy to do, Steven.” Natasha tutted, a laugh forming on her lips despite it staying as a smirk. “Swell guy, Rogers? Arc reactor, green technology. You’re quite knowledgeable for a man that isn’t supposed to know much till the extent of—where’s your lessons at? Cold War? I know a lot of that.”

“Stop it.” Steve mumbled, suddenly conscious, promptly ignoring her proposal. “I just want to see him again.”

Natasha had an indecipherable look on her eyes, but she had a knowing smile now, not a smirk, which comforted Steve a little. “I didn’t peg Captain America as a romantic, honestly. None of your files ever said that.”

“Not a lot knew that,” Steve admitted, as she urged him to go with her for breakfast. “But Steve Rogers totally was.”

* * *

**Afternoon: 11 am**

Steve silently watched Nick Fury walk from each end of the platform he was standing on, perfectly content on sitting down and watching people in SHIELD run their own business. He was officially in his Captain America suit (which wasn’t… what he wore in the past, weirdly enough, it was spandex) and apparently, Fury had started the Avengers Initiative.

He still didn’t know what to do with the information that there was a _god_ that was wreaking havoc on earth, because of the _tesseract,_ and there was a _Norse god_ that was using it.

He’d met Bruce Banner too, and he was _really_ nice to talk to. A bit timid, but he was smart as well, from what his files said; there was also something about being a _monster,_ which was such a strong word.

(The winds had whipped his hair in a haphazard fashion, but he paid it no heed. He had raised his head to call the man as he descended down from the helicopter. “Dr. Banner?”

“Yes?” The doctor had perked up when his name was said, and in the loud sounds emanating from the vehicle, his response was drowned out. “Oh, wow, Captain America! I don’t know if you know who I am but—“

“Dr. Banner, yes,” Steve had smiled, and shook his hand as the man approached him. “Intelligent and capable. Plus more, I assume.”

Bruce’s smile was nice to see. “Yes, uh, and there’s also Mean and Green, which I’m more useful of.”

“Not so, we need brains as well,” he honestly answered. He felt accomplished when the man stood taller with pride. “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”)

And _now?_

His head hurt. He thought technology being very advanced was already a headache on its own, but apparently from what he had read, Yggdrasil was going to be a thing, if Loki the Norse god was real.

 _You can do this, Rogers,_ he cheered for himself. _The team could be great._

“Today, you’ll be meeting your team.” Fury directed, crossing his arms. “I expect that you will be able to reign in your teammates, if ever they are out of the line. You were regarded as a tactical master, more brains than brawn if ever. I will depend on that ability for you to be able to lead this team, because you are a bunch of individuals that have not interacted before.”

Steve knew what that meant. _You’re Captain America. Lead the Avengers and don’t fail._

He was good at leading. Hopefully. Being at war with people who were clearly in the wrong compared to being at war with gods and potential aliens seemed like a different bar fight altogether. Maybe this was a normal thing that people nowadays experience? He was pretty sure in his time, UFOs weren’t as fanatical as it seemed.

He pulled out his (SHIELD-issued) phone and idly tapped a seemingly random number—for any outsider, it would’ve been. If they knew the backstory of his phone, well, they’d be able to open his phone and then see that he’s had a sketch of the arc reactor as his background. It was taken by Natasha, because she was apparently great at editing stuff. So, that was a win; the sketch looked really great.

Steve nodded, recognizing the part where Fury would talk about his potential teammates (Clint Barton). His mind flitted by, and he wondered if he could get a pen and paper from another employee, because he wanted to sketch the area.

Suddenly, a new, _familiar_ voice entered the room.

“How long have you been delivering that speech, Eyepatch?”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he resisted the urge to whip his head to look at the source of the voice—because _god,_ he knew that voice, have heard it in different ways, from sad, to melancholic, to happy, to elated. Now, it sounded confident, brilliant, and undeniably—

“Stark.” Fury called with a deadpan. “How nice of you to join us so early. I didn’t think you’d be here for another, let’s say, hour?”

“What can I say?” He heard Tony say, and by the tone of his voice, he knew that the man was doing his not-smile. “Not a team player, right? Maybe wanted to try to change things up a little. You don’t know.”

He watched as Fury regarded him with a stare, before turning around. “Well. If that’s the case, I will be getting the others here. No sense of losing time. Fucking eccentrics…”

He left them for a moment, and then Steve suddenly felt nervous, because he hasn’t heard Tony call him, or even try to talk to him. No, he was just standing somewhere behind him, talking to another SHIELD employee, and that hurt more than he would like to admit.

Steve wasn’t stupid nor ignorant. He knew who Tony Stark was now.

He knew that he was Iron Man.

_But does he know that I’m Captain America?_

His line of thought were cut short when a timid, curly-haired man entered the foray, and _Natasha_ walked next to Nick Fury. Steve, already anticipated the Hulk with the Avengers (because Fury’s opening statement about Hulk was basically ‘you have to find a way to control him to your advantage’)—but when he met gazes with Natasha, he glared; she sent her a wink, mouthing _surprise!_

Which, he did _not_ appreciate, thanks Natasha.

“Mr. Banner!” Tony greeted, and _god,_ he didn’t like being ignored, never did, in his childhood. It just pained him that it was _Tony_ doing it out of all people. He was pointedly not talking to him too. Was this their farce for a while? Do they pretend like they don’t know each other?

_Say something, Rogers!_

_I don’t know what to say, or how to even approach him._

Pulling himself out of his misery, he decided to look at Natasha and tilted his head for her to come and sit next to her. She subtly glanced towards Tony, and he shook his head.

 _Come on now Rogers,_ her gaze seemed to say. _He’s there._

 _Not now,_ he tried to convey.

She seemed to get the message and walked by his side. “You know,” she murmured as she sat down, “—you could totally confront him, like you confronted me that time.”

He turned to look at her. “What?”

Natasha gave him a smirk. “Come on now, don’t tell me you don’t remember? What was that again? _Ma’am, please delete your moving—your video, ma’am.”_

His eyes widened, and he was struck by a very vivid memory of a woman with a phone, directed at him. His eyes widened, recognizing her from before.

“ _You.”_ He gasped, a twitch in his lips forming into a grin. “I cannot believe you.”

She met his gaze, and with a knowing smirk, gave a wink.

He couldn’t help it, but his cheeks reddened, and idly, he suddenly heard Tony’s voice go sharp, the conversation amongst the SHIELD scientists and Bruce cut short. Then Bruce said something again, and it went on.

Fury turned to him again, and Steve sat ramrod straight. “Captain. I suggest that you get to know your team before the first deployment mission later, since we are tracing the lead of one our agents in Europe. If we do this right, we’ll be able to call you out later for the mission.”

Steve nodded. “Is this the whole group?” He asked, looking around. He was concerned on how they were going to ‘save the world’ just by having four members. The Howling Commandos were a whole regiment, and most of the time, their forces were overwhelmed twenty to one.

But since technology was involved (and he’s _seen_ what Iron Man can do by himself) maybe they could work it out?

Fury nodded, and turned to leave, apparently to ‘check with the WSC’, which Steve had later learned to coin as _I’m going to have a headache, Captain, take command._

Steve let the conversation flow, adding his own cents when needed; however, his attention was mostly on Tony, who had yet to speak to him. Steve had tried to make eye contact with him (six times) but he didn’t know how to talk to _this_ Tony, the Tony that wasn’t supposed to know him, nor the Tony that looked dashing in a three-piece suit. Natasha kept rolling her eyes, because she had dropped her openings left and right, but Steve felt like his mouth had clammed up already.

Steve risked a look to Natasha again for comfort (as comforting as a blank stare or a curved smirk could be) but she was looking at the side, lips curling into a _very_ knowing smile. He was worried for a moment; then, she bent over to kiss his cheek.

He knew it was an opening, not for him, but for Tony.

Tony suddenly clapped, startling Bruce beside him. “Right!” He shouted loudly. Natasha smirked even more, in his line of sight; Tony had blatantly taken the bait she had laid.

“Not going to ask who I am, Captain?”

Steve’s heart stopped, not expecting that he’d be addressed like that. Bruce looked at Tony, surprised at the wording, while Natasha was standing, and already leading Bruce to the side. On the corner of his eyes, he saw Natasha salute him, and Bruce do a confused thumbs-up and a ‘ _good luck Steve’_ mouthed towards him.

“Uh,” he muttered, knowing that he was treading on unknown territory. “Ye-es. I presume you’re Tony Stark.”

It was only the time when he actually took a _look_ at Tony; he was dressed impeccably to the nines, and he looked regal, every bit of _billionaire_ oozing out of his posture and look. Steve suddenly felt horribly insignificant, standing in front of the man.

He was every bit of his dream coming true, and more.

“You’ve presumed well, Captain,” Tony answered, something _else_ lacing into his words. “It was nice to meet you finally. I thought you were ignoring me.”

 _I don’t know what you mean, Tony,_ he wanted to say. _Hello to you too? I was saving the best for last? I love you?_

When they were the only ones left (and three of the SHIELD agents on the platform, but they were busy doing something, like a game) Tony had the _look,_ and he suddenly felt himself being dragged, and he let Tony.

In a moment, he found himself in a locked room, with a bunk bed on the side. He turned around to see a calm-looking Tony. Then something in him broke, so _happy_ to see the man up so close, it took him a moment to speak.

“Tony,” he breathed with so much emotion it felt freeing. “I can’t believe— _mmph--!”_

He had Tony’s lips on him slam on him so suddenly, it jolted him from his place. It was—it was different from that night, because that night was just chaste kisses and a little bit of touching, and this—this.

“You little _shit,”_ Tony heaved as he broke off. Steve was flushed, but he didn’t know why the man felt so angry. “You—“, he attacked him with another kiss, “—little,” then another, “—shit.”

Tony wasn’t kissing him gently, no-- this was a whole new level that Steve didn’t know how to maneuver. There was tongue and he felt weak against the smaller man’s hold. He was weak in the knees, powerless against the other man’s passionate kisses.

“Tony,” he whispered, as the man released him. Good god, could the man kiss. “What’s—what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong, _Rogers_?” He uttered, disbelief on his face. “What’s _wrong?”_

“I—“, he caught the man’s arm as he tried to pull away. “Okay, I acknowledge that I didn’t greet your first, and I want to say I’m sorry. But—is that why are you angry? I’m sorry.”

“ _No,”_ Tony grounded out. “That’s not—that’s not why I’m angry!”

He was confused. “What—what did I do?”

“What did—are you honestly--?” He gasped, and it hurt Steve, god it hurt, that he didn’t know what was hurting Tony. “You—I didn’t expect—“

“Tony.” He closed in, and wrapped him in the hug, but Tony kept protesting against the hold. “Tony—I’m sorry for what I did, but I don’t know what you mean—“

“I waited for you!”

Steve’s eyes widened as Tony pushed him away, as his arms fell to his sides.

The man looked defeated, and distraught was visible in every part of his body. Steve felt his heart clench, and he wanted to reach out, but it was obvious that Tony wasn’t done.

“I waited for you, to… to come to me.” He murmured. “I know you knew me already. I know you’ve seen me. I didn’t think you won’t go, at all.” He sniffed, and then Steve realized, his eyes are becoming wet with tears.

“I know I’m famous and I know Stark Tower is literally just a few ways off, it’s literally huge and I was waiting for JARVIS to tell me that there’s this blond waiting in the lobby, or shit, something,” he grit his teeth. “I waited for two god damn weeks, and every night, I’d want to go out and see you again, but I’d convince myself that you weren’t going because I thought—I didn’t have to do it myself!”

“I tried searching for you, you know,” Tony clenched his teeth, hands shaking. “F-Fucking, Steven Rogers, and all the results that came in where old records. I told myself that you were real, that night, and not some fucked-up dream that I had after drinking vodka. But apparently SHIELD had you in top security, that they didn’t even upload your god damn files in their database.”

His breathing was ragged, and Steve couldn’t help it, he hugged the other man again.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve murmured, and he gently looped his arm around the other man, careful not to mess his suit. “I didn’t think I…” he shook his head. “No, I would’ve definitely gone, if I could, but after the incident, they hadn’t let me out for these past two weeks, especially with the threat. I’ve been in the helicarrier for two weeks, Tony, you have to believe me.”

He stroked his hand on the other man’s back, and he started to massage him lightly, feeling the tension. “I wanted to call you, I really did. I know I should’ve checked on you and found a way to contact you,” he whispered, planting soft kisses on the man’s face, wiping the few tears that had escaped from Tony’s eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry, please, forgive me.” He lifted him up, and he nudged Tony’s lips with his own, for him to open, and it made him feel relieved that Tony did, pliant in his grasp.

“God, Tony, you found me,” Steve murmured in between kisses, and he kissed, and he kissed, as if stopping would let them be taken away from each other again. “You found me.”

“I found you,” Tony repeated, calmer, eyes clearer.

Steve kissed the man again, and again, and again, until even his super soldier-enhanced lungs felt like bursting. “I’m sorry, baby, please tell you’ve forgiven me,” he pleaded, putting his head on the crook of Tony’s neck. He lingered a kiss on it, stroking Tony’s back at the same time. “I let you down.”

“Not—not really,” Tony murmured, leaning his cheek onto his head. “I guess it couldn’t be helped that they’re keeping Captain America to themselves.”

“They tried a lot,” Steve chuckled morosely. “That night with you was the only time I was actually out of SHIELD premises.”

“And I take it that they didn’t know.”

“They didn’t.”

Tony hummed, kissing his ear. He intertwined their fingers. “I won’t blame them; after this, I’m whisking you to my tower. You won’t leave for three weeks, or more, tops.”

“Tony!” He choked in surprise. He could detect the hint of a promise, between the lines. “That’s not—“

“Appropriate?” Tony eased into a grin, and Steve was then reminded again of how they somehow always found a way to right themselves despite the situation at hand. How they could talk, or not, but still enjoy each other’s time. He took Steve into another kiss again, and released. “Sweetheart, I’ve already got your room furnished, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

 _Furnished?_ He blinked. “Like—with sofas, and tables?”

Tony snorted. “Your first thought of ‘furnished’ was a sofa, Steve? Not that you have a room? Come on.”

“I like sofas!”

“You like beds better.” Tony waggled his eyebrows, which Steve opted to cover with his hand. He pulled away afterwards, just in time to see Tony smile again.

“Does, ‘wait’ suffice in this conversation?” Steve offered, and then he was blushing again when he felt Tony’s hand slip down from his back, to his bum. “Tony.”

“You’re mine, okay?” Tony whispered, and Steve had to look at him to see that there was that _hunger_ again. “Not anyone else’s. I’m going to date the hell out of you. Bring you to—to movies. Introduce you to the current century. That’s going to be my job.”

“I’m planning dinner, remember?” Steve said. “Besides, of course I’m yours. We’ve made that promise. Why are—“, he blinked, suddenly realizing something. “You’re jealous!”

“Jealous?” The brown-haired man scoffed, rolling his eyes. _Definitely jealous._ “I don’t get jealous.”

“You _are!”_ Steve said, awed. “From earlier—with Agent Romanoff!”

“I thought you were on a first name basis with Natalie.” Tony griped, not looking at him.

“ _She’s_ Natalie?” Steve wondered, remembering the name. Something about being his secretary but also jabbing a needle in him? He had to ask that in the future, but now, he shook his head. “Her name’s Natasha.”

“Natasha finds you cute?”

Steve tried to halt his grin, but he couldn’t, because Tony was just so _adorable._ “Stop it Tony _,_ you are such a drama queen.” His lips stretched into a smile. “She knows about _us,_ Tony. She was the one who filmed us in the café.” Then, after a beat, he muttered, “And she didn’t tell me earlier.”

Tony reached up to card his fingers through Steve’s hair, and the blond relaxed to his hold. “She did? I mean. Okay. That’s horrifying that we had the Black Widow after us on the date.” He huffed. “Also, I would like to repeat, I’m not jealous. I’m just—making sure.” He paused. “It’s. It’s been two weeks, after all. I’ve got to make sure you’ll remember me.”

Steve kissed him again. “I told you, I’d never forget you.” He breathed in deeply, becoming fully aware of Tony once again. He could just be in this position all the time, and he’d be happy. “God, Tony, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Steve.” Tony murmured.

Steve broke the embrace to look at Tony. “You look fantastic, baby. Really, really good. The coat didn’t give you justice. Is this what geniuses wear for casual clothing?”

Tony’s lips quirked into a smirk. “I looked great in the coat, but I guess I agree. You, however,” he gestured to his clothing, “—I am actually afraid of. I preferred the tight shirt and the jogging pants. Those looked amazing on you, despite being plain as hell.”

“Tony,” he warned, but his voice lacked heat. 

“Oh don’t you call me with that tone.” The genius muttered, and he was fidgeting with the costume’s zippers. “Besides, I’ve got a better version of your suit with me. Nothing that tacky. Shows off your assets.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

(There was a hand on his butt again.)

(He quickly found out that he didn’t mind, when they were alone.)

“Tony.” He laughed, just glad that Tony was next to him. Learning to not mind Tony’s little ministrations was more fun than not experiencing them at all. It was probably the same as how he kept stroking Tony’s back. “I still need this. Got to save the world as Captain America, after all.”

“Save the world, huh?” Tony murmured in delight. “With the Avengers.”

“With the Avengers,” Steve affirmed, then, “—with you.”

Tony thumped a fist to his chest playfully. “You sap.” He poked the star on Steve’s chest. “You’re still going to change that suit, though.” Tony said with a deadpan. “I did that for a few nights or so. Appreciate my hard work.”

“Did my genius concoct something at the dead of midnight again?” Steve teased.

“You bet I did.” Tony boasted, smugness lacing into his tone. Then, his face shifted into a soft smile. “Stayed up all night for you.”

Steve couldn’t help kissing him again, remembering his previous, sleepless night. He felt that was changing this time around.

“I love you, Tony.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

.

.

.

**12 pm**

“You know that I’m never letting you go now, right? It’s not just one night anymore, you’re going to be stuck with me now.” Tony joked, features lighting up. “Avengers and everything.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, embracing him. He didn’t think that was a bad thing. “And I’m never going to leave.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND IT'S DONE!!! My first multi-chapter, actually thought out story is done!
> 
> I hope I brought this story into a good close. 
> 
> If you want to yell at me, I'm active in Tumblr at https://authorintheskies.tumblr.com! I also draw art too.
> 
> Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Here goes to Steve and Tony's night tour. What can happen? Also, I apologize for any NYC readers, I have no idea how it looks like (except the 'major' things and stuff I researched. Thank you for understanding.) 
> 
> I would like to see your thoughts and opinions! Thank you in advance!


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